


Family First

by EmonyDeborah



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: AU, Elena is hot-headed, Family, Gen, Land of the Dead, Rivera Family - Freeform, Singing, Sisters, Victoria is precious and loves her sister, weird art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-05-14 07:43:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 26,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14765456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmonyDeborah/pseuds/EmonyDeborah
Summary: What if Victoria and Elena got stuck in the Land of the Dead long before Miguel was even born? Because 'I need the guitar for a talent show' isn't the only reason to rob a grave, my friends.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> People have written these for Coco and Imelda, but Victoria is my favorite for reasons unknown to me and I thought it would be fun to send her to the Land of the Dead.

“Ay, will they never leave?” Victoria looked up at her Abuelita, who was glaring out the window.

Ever since Ernesto de la Cruz had died a few years ago, a never-ending stream of tourists had been flocking to Santa Cecilia from all over Mexico. They all came to see de la Cruz’s mausoleum and statue, and the particularly enthusiastic ones even walked up to his tomb and pressed their noses against the windows, gawking at the famous musician’s guitar.

“They come to see his statue and his guitar, but do they ever think to look in the shops?” Abuelita ranted, waving a half-finished boot in the general direction of the window, where Victoria could still hear the tourist’s chatting about de la Cruz’s guitar. Victoria recognized her abuelita’s posture and knew she would be yelling at the window for some time, so she quietly continued to help clean up the shop, picking scraps of leather off the floor and winding loose threads back onto their spools. Her mama was also cleaning up, and she gave Victoria a gentle smile every time their eyes met, but Victoria could tell that she was sad for some reason.

“How lucky are the people here, to have known Ernesto de la Cruz?” The tourist’s last comment sent Abuelita flying off the edge, and Mama sighed as Abuelita stormed out of the shop to give each of the tourists a piece of her mind, mixed with a thorough beating by Rivera boot.

“Why does Abuelita hate tourists so much?” Victoria asked her mama, who gave her a sad smile.

“Because they think they know Ernesto de la Cruz, and they don’t.” Victoria frowned in confusion, and her mama sat down before explaining further.

“Abuelita has told you why we don’t listen to music-”

“Because her husband left to play for the world,” Victoria finished promptly, and shrunk a little as her mama flinched.

“Yes,” Mama said quietly. “But Ernesto de la Cruz was the one who convinced Papa to leave, so Abuelita doesn’t like when the tourists talk like he was such a great man.” Mama didn’t like it either, Victoria had seen how quiet and sad her mama became at any mention of de la Cruz. She immediately felt anger rising inside her, though her face remained impassive. De la Cruz was all the tourists ever talked about, and they always made her mama sad and her abuelita angry, why couldn’t they just leave?

Victoria had been taught from birth to hate music and the abuelo she had never met, because they had supposedly torn her family apart. Victoria loved her family the way it was, it didn’t seem torn to her. But de la Cruz’s fans were actively hurting her family everyday just by being there and talking about things they didn’t understand, and though Victoria had never liked the tourists, for the first time she suddenly wished they would all shut up and get out.

She didn’t say anything to her mama, though, who had finished cleaning up and was beckoning her to the door. Victoria stuffed some shoe polish she’d been trying to find a place for into her pocket and obediently followed her mama out of the workshop and into the courtyard, where the rest of the family was preparing for Dia de los Muertos. Tio Oscar and Tio Felipe were hanging papel picado, and Mama went to help Tia Rosita bring out plates and plates of food from the kitchen. Victoria’s hermanita, Elena, and papa were scattering petals in a path to the ofrenda room, Elena’s face scrunched in concentration as she tried to make the path perfectly straight. Victoria was about to go help when Abuelita stalked into the courtyard, stuffing the unfinished boot into her apron and muttering darkly under her breath.

“Turistas idiotas. ‘His statue, his guitar,’ why can’t they just leave us alone?” But her sad, exhausted expression belied her venomous words, and Victoria frowned, trying to decide what to do with the anger she felt boiling in her stomach. It didn’t take her long to make up her mind, and instead of approaching her sister, she walked to her mama.

“Mama, may I go to the cemetery to watch the fireworks?” Mama glanced at Abuelita, who was snapping at Victoria’s tios for hanging the papel picado wrong, and gave Victoria a small nod.

“Come back as soon as they’re done, mija, it’s almost time to eat.” Victoria nodded, and turned to leave the courtyard before someone called her back.

“Victoria, where are you going?” Abuelita asked sharply, though in a slightly gentler tone than she’d been using on Oscar and Felipe.

“Mama said I could go watch the fireworks. I’ll be back soon, Abuelita,” Victoria answered. She grimaced to herself when Abuelita shook her head, thinking that her mission was going to be cancelled before it could begin.

“Not like that, mija,” Abuelita said with a tsk, and before she knew what was happening, Victoria found herself being manhandled into a sweater and scarf, though Mama managed to convince Abuelita that she didn’t need mittens. As soon as Abuelita deemed her warm enough, Victoria slipped out of the courtyard and headed towards the cemetery as fast as she could without actually running.

She _was_ going to see the fireworks, they were very hard to miss. But that was not what sent Victoria walking briskly down the street, staring straight ahead and ignoring her surroundings as she approached her destination.

The tourists were came to Santa Cecilia for two reasons; the first was to see Ernesto de la Cruz’s statue. Victoria had never liked the statue, it had taken the place of a fountain she had liked playing in when she was little, and it was a big, brown, ugly thing anyway. But the tourists could stare at it for hours, marveling loudly at its accuracy and ‘how clearly it showed the joy in his eyes and his heart,’ or something ridiculous like that. It showed him holding up his guitar with a wide grin, as if he was saying, ‘Look at me, I’m famous,’ and there was a plaque on the base of the statue that read, ‘Seize your moment,’ which Victoria always took a moment to scoff at. What sort of cheesy nonsense was that?

The second reason the tourists came was to see the guitar. ‘The _actual guitar_ , that he _actually held_ in his _hands.’_ More than once, Victoria had seen hordes of tourists crowding outside the windows of de la Cruz’s mausoleum, practically pressing their noses against the windows.

But no tourists would be there tonight, she was certain, not in the dark and while there were fireworks to watch.

The tourists hurt her mama and her abuelita, something Victoria was not willing to stand for. They came for the statue and the guitar, and Victoria could do nothing about the statue.

But she could do something about the guitar.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Victoria didn’t really know what she was going to do with the guitar once she got it, she hadn’t planned that far ahead. But she knew how she was going to get to it, and she only had to wait outside the window of de la Cruz’s mausoleum a few minutes before the first fireworks started. It was simple enough to time her actions, she just waited until a firework exploded, and in that same moment, she thrust all her weight onto the window, breaking the lock and allowing her to scramble inside. She swung the window mostly shut behind her, so as to not attract attention, before turning to look at the inside of the mausoleum.

It was big inside, almost as big as Victoria’s room at home, but all that occupied the space was a marble coffin, a portrait of de la Cruz, and the guitar. Victoria hesitated by the window for a moment, suddenly rethinking her actions, and wondering whether she should be stealing from a dead man. But then she remembered who that dead man was, what he had done and was still doing to her family. She thought of her mama’s sadness, and her abuelita’s anger, and marched forward, firm in her resolve. She climbed onto the coffin, cringing slightly when the lid shifted. The portrait hanging over the guitar seemed to be glaring down at her, and Victoria avoided looking at it, swallowing nervously as she reached for the guitar, her fingers inches from its smooth, polished surface.

“Victoria?” Victoria almost screamed. She whirled around on top of the coffin and almost fell off as she saw her sister climbing noisily through the window.

“Elena?” she asked in a whisper. “What are you doing here?”

“I followed you,” Elena said defensively as Victoria vaulted off the coffin and shut the window, praying Elena hadn’t been seen. “You said you were going to watch the fireworks.” Victoria grit her teeth and pulled Elena out of view of the window.

“I did,” she said. “I’m watching them right now.” Elena twisted around to see a firework fading into the sky, then turned back to Victoria with a suspicious frown.

“What are you doing in here?” she asked, instinctively quieting down when Victoria shushed her. Victoria racked her brains for an answer that wouldn’t get her in trouble, though she knew there wasn’t one. She reluctantly decided to tell Elena the truth, hoping it would be enough to keep her quiet.

“I’m going to break the guitar so tourists won’t come to see it.” Elena’s mouth dropped open.

“You’re going to _break_ it?” she asked, sounding scandalized. “But it’s not yours.”

“I know that,” Victoria said harshly. “But if I break it less tourists would come, and Mama wouldn’t be so sad.” Elena tilted her head to the side, confused.

“Mama is sad?”

“Si,” Victoria said, impatient now. “The tourists make her sad, and I’m trying to make them go away.” Finally, Elena could understand _that._ She hated when Mama was sad. Her brow furrowed at the thought, and she pushed past Victoria to climb onto the marble coffin.

“What are you doing?” Victoria demanded. “I’m going to get it. Get down.” She climbed up next to Elena as she spoke, trying not to slip on the smooth marble.

“We can both get it,” Elena said stubbornly, and reached for the guitar. Knowing Elena was not going to take no for an answer, Victoria reached forward too and helped lift it off the wall.

The guitar was surprisingly heavy, and Victoria was begrudgingly grateful to Elena for turning up so inconveniently, because otherwise she doubted she would have been able to get it off the wall. They maneuvered it to the ground with some difficulty, and stared at it for a moment as they caught their breath.

It was prettier than Victoria had imagined, a pure, shining white with a skull pattern at the top. Without thinking, she ran her fingers over the strings, just to see what sort of noise it would make. She liked the sound it made more than she thought she would, but the thought was driven from her mind as the air seemed to shimmer and vibrate around her, and Elena grabbed her hand, which meant she must have sensed it, too. A light shined through the window, and Victoria ignored the odd change in the air in favor of pulling Elena to her feet.

“Someone stole de la Cruz’s guitar!” Victoria pulled Elena toward the door. She heard keys jangling and the lock clicking open, but still she ran forward, hoping to get past the groundskeeper before he could see her face. The groundskeeper walked in, his flashlight roaming around the dark mausoleum, but before Victoria could duck around him, he stepped forward and _through_ her and Elena, as though they weren’t even there. Victoria gasped, her stomach rolling with nausea, and Elena squeezed her hand with a death grip.

“Victoria?” she asked timidly, but Victoria didn’t answer except to pull her out the door, towards the group of people gathering outside it. Victoria reached for the first person she saw, only to have her hand go straight through the woman’s arm. Elena tried the same, grabbing at people as they walked by, with the same result. Elena latched onto Victoria’s side, suddenly afraid of touching anyone else. “Victoria?” she asked again, sounding close to crying. “What is happening?”

“I don’t know, Elena,” she answered in a quavering voice. “But we should go home now.” Elena nodded fervently, and followed Victoria towards the exit of the cemetery, but both girls whipped around when they heard their names being called.

“Victoria! Elena! It’s time to come home!”

“Mama!” they both cried, and ran toward her, only to pass through her as well. They turned and watched her in disbelief, not understanding how their mama couldn’t see them, and didn’t know where they were, when she always knew everything.

“Mama, wait!” Elena yelled again, and ran forward, yanking Victoria behind her and sending them both tumbling into an open grave.

“Dios mio! Niñas, are you all right?” Victoria and Elena each grasped one of the hands that was stretching down into the grave, so grateful to be seen that they didn’t notice the odd whiteness of the woman’s hands.

“Gracias,” Victoria said quietly, dusting off her glasses and putting them back on as Elena glanced around frantically for Mama. The woman shrieked upon seeing their faces, and Victoria jumped and looked up at her. Victoria’s mouth dropped open and her grip on Elena’s hand tightened, causing her to glance at the woman, too. Elena screamed.

The woman was a skeleton, and she looked just as startled to see them as they were to see her. Elena ran, pulling Victoria behind her until they ran into another skeleton, a tall man whose eyes widened in his exposed sockets when he saw them. Victoria finally looked around the whole cemetery, and she almost passed out, Elena’s hand the only thing tethering her to reality.

The cemetery was filled with skeletons; real skeletons walking and talking and dancing, and now more and more of them were turning towards her and Elena, whispering amongst themselves as they approached.

“They’re alive!”

“And they can see us?”

“Impossible!” Victoria pulled a shaking Elena to her side and wrapped a protective arm around her, trying to wake herself up because _this couldn't be real, it had to be a dream, I’m going to wake up soon-_

“Hola, niñas.” Victoria instinctively turned toward the kind voice, but a-there was no other word for it- _bony_ hand gently touched her shoulder and she nearly jumped out of her skin. The skeleton lady who had approached them backed off, looking apologetic. “Lo siento,” she said. “Niñas, are you alive?” Victoria gave her a short nod, unable to speak. The woman glanced around at the growing crowd, then beckoned for Victoria and Elena to follow her. “I know who can help you,” she said when they hesitated. Victoria and Elena glanced at each other, neither of them eager to follow a skeleton to who knows where, but the crowd was starting to press in on them. Victoria and Elena shoved through them after the woman, both girls feeling like they couldn't breathe with so many skeletons surrounding them. They followed the woman through the cemetery, past other people, living and dead, standing around headstones, giving and accepting offerings. Victoria watched curiously as a skeleton man took a ghost copy of some pan dulce from his grave before putting it in a basket, which was almost filled with other offerings. Elena pulled her away before she could watch anymore.

“Señora?” Elena asked, and the woman turned slightly to show she was listening. “Why can't anyone see us?”

“Well,” she started cautiously, trying not to frighten them. “You're not dead, niñas, I don’t think, but you don't seem quite alive, either.” Victoria felt Elena’s grip tighten on hers, and she squeezed back reassuringly.

Suddenly, she felt something brush past her ankles, and she looked down to see two yellow eyes peering up at her.

“Pepita?” she said incredulously, and Elena and the woman stopped to look down, too.

“Can she see us?” Elena asked, and Pepita swiveled her head to look at her, flicking her ears as if to say, ‘Of course I can.’

Pepita was Abuelita’s little tabby cat, and although she couldn't possibly do anything to help them, Victoria was reassured all the same that the cat could see them, and Elena scooped her into a tight embrace. Pepita squirmed a bit, but Elena kept a firm hold and eventually Pepita settled for a semi-comfortable position in Elena’s pudgy arms.

“Is that your family’s alebrije?” Victoria blinked and looked up at the skeleton lady.

“Alebrijes are real?” she asked as Elena continued to cuddle Pepita, and the lady looked surprised.

“Of course, niña. Did you think they weren’t?” Victoria opened her mouth to answer, but couldn’t think of anything to say. It didn’t matter anyway, the lady turned and led them away before Victoria could answer.

They followed the lady to the other end of the cemetery, where Victoria’s jaw dropped when she saw a bridge made of glowing, orange marigold petals. It stretched across a sea of darkness to a dazzling city made up of impossibly tall skyscrapers. Skeletons were crossing over the bridge from the city, but they looked different on the bridge than they did in the cemetery, and Victoria gave her glasses a quick wipe just to check if her eyes were deceiving her. Once they left the bridge, all the skeletons seemed to be passing through an invisible barrier that changed them from solid beings into the ethereal, glowing ghosts walking around in the living world. The lady stepped through without hesitating, but Victoria stopped directly in front of the barrier, putting out a hand to stop Elena as well. Victoria cautiously reached one hand through the barrier, pulling it back almost immediately at the tingling sensation it sent zinging up her arm.

“Come on, niñas, it’s all right,” the lady said, offering Victoria her hand. Victoria glanced at Elena, who was staring at her with wide eyes, and repressed a shudder as she took the lady’s hand and let herself be pulled through the barrier.

She felt solid again, not like a fading ghost, and beckoned for Elena to follow her. Elena stepped onto the bridge with a shiver, squeezing Pepita tight as the lady turned and started leading them across the bridge.

“So, what are your names, niñas?” she asked kindly, distracting Victoria from the fact that her home and everyone she knew were disappearing behind her.

“I’m Elena, and my sister is Victoria,” Elena said promptly, accustomed to speaking for Victoria. The lady nodded.

“Those are pretty names. I’m Josefina.” Josefina paused for a moment to let a large family pass, and shielded the girls from sight as she did so. “How old are you?”

“I’m seven, and Victoria in ten,” Elena answered as they continued walking at a slightly faster pace than before. People were starting to notice them, Victoria had heard several distinct gasps as skeletons passed them on the way to Santa Cecilia.

“That’s nice,” Josefina said, walking even faster than before. It didn’t take them long to get to the other side, and Victoria was panting by the time they stepped off the bridge. Josefina ushered them to the booth with the shortest line.

“Anything to declare?” a skeleton in a uniform asked when it was their turn.

“As a matter of fact…” Josefina pushed the girls forward, glancing around furtively.

The skeleton’s jaw dropped onto his desk with a clatter.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-da, welcome to the Land of the Dead
> 
> Thanks for reading, please leave a comment!


	3. Chapter 3

As Josefina explained what had happened to the gaping arrival agent, Victoria was distracted from their conversation by a loud commotion in the departures area. A tall skeleton covered in neon green paint was being hauled away by two guards, and Victoria watched curiously as he struggled to get to the bridge. He was leaving green handprints on everything he touched, and the guards were already covered in paint.

“Victoria!” Elena whispered, and Victoria jumped. “I have an idea!” Victoria frowned warily but nodded for Elena to continue, looking away from the green-painted skeleton. Elena glanced at Josefina and the agent, who weren’t paying them any attention, and whispered into Victoria’s ear, “This is the Land of the Dead!” Victoria raised her eyebrows, wondering if that was really what Elena had realized, but Elena continued, “So Ernesto de la Cruz is here, right?” Victoria nodded slowly. “So we can go get him!”

“What?”

“We can find him, and then we can-we can-get him!” Victoria was shaking her head before Elena finished speaking.

“No, Elena, we have to go home.” Elena scowled.

“You’re just scared. Doesn’t Ernesto de la Cruz make Mama sad?” Victoria hesitated, sensing a trap.

“Si, but-”

“Then we  _ have  _ to go get him!” Elena dropped Pepita, who hissed in surprise, and put her hands on her hips. “We have to!”

“Elena, we can’t,” Victoria insisted, panic looming in her chest at what Elena was suggesting. She really wanted to run into the Land of the Dead, away from anyone who could help them, and find a dead man to-what? Beat him with a shoe and perhaps get themselves killed in the process? “We can’t.” Her voice was shaking, and Elena shook her head in disgust.

“He makes Mama sad!” she said, and finally caught the attention of Josefina and the agent. “You don’t love Mama! You don’t love anyone!” Victoria gasped, and before she could say anything, Elena spun around on her heel and ran through the gate and into the city, Pepita scampering after her.

“Elena!” Without thinking, Victoria moved to run after her, but a skeleton hand grabbed her arm and stopped her from going anywhere.

“Hold on, chiquita, you can’t just run into the city like that.” It was the arrival agent, but far from calming her, his words caused a more violent reaction than Victoria could have imagined. She kicked and screamed and begged as he dragged her away, in the opposite direction from where Elena had gone.

“Por favor, mi hermanita! I have to find her!” she shrieked as the agent carried her away from Josefina and into a building bustling with activity, and from there into a small office. The clerk there seemed startled when the agent dropped Victoria into one of his chairs, but Victoria didn’t care. Her breaths were coming in shallow gasps, darkness was gathering in the corners of her eyes, and her hands were shaking violently in her hysteria. 

“P-p-please, Señor,” she stammered. “Please, I have to find my sister, she’s all alone-”

“Calm down, señorita, take some deep breaths,” the clerk said kindly, and Victoria fell silent, trembling. “Now, we will send agents to find your sister, but you have to stay here, okay? We have to find out why you’re here.” Victoria didn’t say anything as he rummaged through some papers before he pulled one out of a stack and waved it triumphantly. “Here we are!” he said. “Looks like you’re cursed.” Victoria didn’t respond. “There are a few ways to get cursed, let’s see...seance gone wrong, probably not...angered a witch; who believes in witches?” he scoffed, his eyes scanning down the list. “Disturbing an ancient burial ground, robbing a grave…” Victoria shifted in her seat, and the clerk glanced up at her. “You robbed a grave?” he asked incredulously, and Victoria scowled. The clerk cleared his throat. “Well, it says here that to get home you need the blessing of the person you stole from, or sometimes a blessing from a family member will do. Whose grave did you rob?”

Victoria didn’t answer for a long moment, her inherent distrust of strangers keeping her silent for a moment.

“What will happen when I tell you?” she asked. One of the advantages of being the granddaughter of a successful businesswoman was that she had known how to haggle since before she could walk, and her abuelita had taught her to never give up any advantage she might have. The clerk frowned, confused and a little concerned by her her question.

“Well, we will call the person you stole from and any family we can find, and whoever gets here first will send you home.” Victoria stiffened.

“What about Elena?” she asked suspiciously.

“We’ll send her after you as soon as we find her.” The clerk obviously didn’t see anything wrong with this arrangement, or he wouldn’t have told her so easily, but Victoria immediately bristled.

“I won’t leave without her,” she said firmly. The clerk smiled nervously, sensing that he had just let the situation get out of hand, and tapped his fingers on his desk.

“Ah, I really can’t let you stay here, señorita. You have to get home by sunrise.”

“What happens at sunrise?” Victoria asked, crossing her arms and trying to look imposing like Abuelita. Normally it wouldn’t have worked, she was too shy to keep up any act for long, but her little sister was in danger and she wasn’t going anywhere until she was found. The clerk gulped.

“You, ah, well…” he gestured toward one of her hands, and Victoria sent it a quick glance before doing a double take.

The skin on one of her fingers was becoming transparent, and Victoria’s eyes widened as she stared down at her own bones. For a moment, she fought the urge to panic, and curled her hand into a fist so she couldn’t see the finger.

Everything that was happening to her was happening to Elena. If she didn’t find her soon, Elena would be trapped here as a skeleton, and Victoria forced herself not to hyperventilate at the thought of her hermanita being stuck here, alone and lost, forever. She looked back up at the clerk, her eyes flinty.

“I won’t leave without mi hermana,” she said slowly, and the clerk’s eyes widened as he understood how serious she was. There was an awkward pause, and Victoria lifted her chin to look down imperiously at the clerk, hoping her cold gaze was enough like Abuelita’s that he would cower.

“Ah, would you like some water, señorita?” he said, his voice slightly higher than it had been. Victoria nodded, and the clerk sprang out of his seat and all but ran from the room. Victoria’s firm posture crumbled as soon as the clerk disappeared out the door, and she held her transparent finger up to her face, bending it experimentally. She knew she should be scared for herself, and she was, very much, but she forced herself to think of Elena, and covered her finger with her other hand.

No one here was going to help, no one in the whole Land of the Dead knew Elena as well as she did. Victoria shuddered as she realized exactly what she had to do, but didn’t hesitate before slipping out the door.

She had been too hysterical before to notice how she had gotten to the office, but she chose a hallway that looked deserted and ran down it, hoping she would manage to find a way out soon. Most of the rooms she passed were empty, and she barely spared any of them a passing glance. But after what seemed like a long time, she heard voices and skidded to a halt outside an occupied office.

“Disturbing the peace, fleeing an officer, impersonating an alebrije-”

“That’s illegal?” Victoria shrank back into a shadow as she listened, wondering if she could follow either of the men she heard talking out of the building when they left.

“Very illegal,” she heard the first man grunt. “You need to clean up your act, amigo.”

“Amigo?” Victoria rolled her eyes at the fake tears in the man’s voice. “That’s so nice to hear you say, because I’ve just had a really hard Dia de los Muertos, and I could really use an amigo right now.” Victoria heard the first man try to interrupt, but the second man plowed on before he could say anything. “And amigos, they help their amigos, si? Listen.” Victoria frowned as the man’s voice changed slightly, became more genuine and a bit desperate. “You get me across that bridge tonight, and I’ll make it worth your while!” There was short pause, then- “You like de la Cruz? He and I go way back! I can get you front row seats to his Sunrise Spectacular show!” Victoria inhaled sharply. Elena was looking for de la Cruz, and Victoria knew she was strong and stubborn enough to find him. If she got this skeleton to lead her to de la Cruz, she could find Elena and they could both go home with de la Cruz’s blessing.

“I should lock you up for the rest of the holiday,” the first man said, and Victoria’s heart plummeted. “But my shift’s almost up, and I wanna visit my living family. So I’m letting you off with a warning.” Victoria heard someone grab a paper from someone’s hand.

“Some amigo,” the skeleton muttered as he left the room, passing very close to where Victoria was standing, pressed back into a shadow. Victoria followed him until they were out of earshot of the man in the office.

“You know Ernesto de la Cruz?” she asked from behind him as he stepped into a crowded hall.

“Who wants to-ah!” he yelped, and Victoria pulled him back into the dark hallway before he could alert any guards. “You’re alive!”

“Yes I’m alive, and to get my sister back to the Land of the Living, I have to find de la Cruz!” The skeleton leaned away from her intense stare and glanced at the hall over her shoulder.

“That’s weirdly specific,” he said warily.

“My sister is looking for him, if I find de la Cruz I find Elena and we can go home, por favor Señor can you take me to him?” Victoria knew she was opening herself up to awkward questions and freely giving up any advantages she had, but this lanky, still greenish skeleton was her best chance to find her sister.

“You-what-?” the skeleton spluttered, trying and failing to keep up.

“Please?” Victoria begged, cutting off his stammering. He still looked extremely confused, but after a moment a delighted look swept over his face.

“Wait wait wait wait,” he said, and Victoria grit her teeth in her impatience. “You-you’re going to the Land of the Living! You can help me! We can help each other!”

“Si, si,” Victoria said, not caring about his conditions for helping her. “Can we go now, please?” 

“Of course, chica! Right this way,” he said, gesturing grandly to the crowded hall. Victoria stepped cautiously into the light, looking around for any guards. “I’m Hector,” the skeleton said, leading her towards the large door. At that moment, the guard who had dragged Victoria into the building spotted her from across the hall.

“Hey!” he shouted, and without a word Victoria grabbed Hector’s arm and sprinted out the door.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's bear in mind that Elena is seven and not the best at thinking ahead.  
> Thanks for reading, please leave a comment!


	4. Chapter 4

“I’m sorry I broke your arm off,” Victoria said in a low voice as Hector checked to see if they had been followed. He waved off her apology and sat down on a crate.

“De nada, chica. Now,” he gave her a searching look, and it took Victoria a moment to realize that he was examining the skin on her face. The coat and scarf Abuelita had forced her into covered most of Victoria’s flesh, but unless she came up with some sort of disguise, she’d be spotted and dragged back to the Department of Family Reunions within five minutes of leaving the alley she and Hector had ducked into.

“Do you have any paint?” Hector asked suddenly, and Victoria blinked.

“Don’t you?” she asked, and gestured to a splotch of green paint on his femur. He smiled sheepishly and shifted his suspenders to cover the mark.

“Nothing that will work for us, unless you want to pretend to be my alebrije.” Victoria scrunched her nose, then reached into her pocket and pulled out two cans of shoe polish from the shop.

“Will these work?” she asked, holding them out to Hector. He took them and unscrewed the lid off of one before giving it an experimental poke. The polish stuck to his finger, and he grinned.

“Perfecto,” he said, and pushed another crate in front of him. “Sit down, chica, and let the master get to work.” Victoria sat down on the crate and forced herself not to flinch when she felt Hector’s bony finger wiping polish over her face. He quickly covered most of her face with white polish and added black after that, gently taking her glasses off and setting them on Victoria’s crate until he was finished. “There,” he said after adding a few finishing touches. “And if you let your hair down-” Victoria’s hand flew to her topknot, defensively holding it in place.

“Why do I need to let my hair down?” she asked sharply, and he tapped the side of his skull, near the top of his cheekbone.

“We don’t have ears, chica.” Victoria hesitated. She didn’t like letting her hair down, it got stuck in her glasses and she constantly had to brush it out of her face, but she understood Hector’s reasoning. Reluctantly, she pulled the pins out her hair and let it fall and cover her ears. She stuffed her pins in her pocket, and let Hector adjust her scarf until he was satisfied she didn’t have any skin showing. When she was suitably skeletal, he rummaged around the alley for a moment and stood with a small, cracked mirror in his hand.

“Dead as a doorknob,” he said as he handed her the mirror. She carefully put her glasses back on and examined her painted face from all angles, looking for patches of skin until Hector dramatically slapped his forehead. “Ay, chica, where are my manners?” He held out a hand for her to shake. “You know my name is Hector, and you are-?”

“Victoria,” she said, taking his hand and letting go a little too quickly, the feeling of bare bone sending her skin crawling.

“Hola, Victoria,” Hector said as he sat back down. “So, listen, this place runs on memories.” He gestured around him, and Victoria put the mirror down to listen. “When you’re well remembered, people put up your photo, and you get to cross over the bridge and visit the living on Dia de los Muertos.” His shoulders sagged slightly, and his nonchalant mask cracked just a bit so that Victoria could see the misery underneath. “Unless you’re me.”

“You can’t cross?” she asked, feeling sorry for him despite the fact that she barely knew him.

“No one’s ever put up my picture,” he answered with a sad shrug, before he brightened considerably. “But you can change all that!” He pulled an old photo out of his threadbare shirt and handed it to Victoria.

It was a picture of Hector, though it took Victoria a moment to recognize him. As a skeleton, he didn’t have a nose, but in the picture it was his most prominent feature. It was long and pointed, and it seemed to take up half his face. He was smiling, and had dimples in both cheeks. But he had the same goatee and brown eyes.

“Muy guapo, eh?” he said, giving her a comically devilish smile. The corner of Victoria’s mouth twitched up very slightly.

“So, you help me find de la Cruz and my sister, and I put up your photo when we go home?”

“Yes! Great idea, yes!” Hector paused, and Victoria sensed a ‘however’ coming. “One small problem: de la Cruz is a tough guy to get to, and it takes a while to cross that bridge once your picture is up. Are you sure de la Cruz is the only way for you and your sister to get home?” Victoria nodded, and Hector didn’t question her. He sighed and grimaced, but pushed himself to his feet and held out a hand to help Victoria up, too. “Off we go, then.”

He led her out of the alley and through the city, and Victoria had to hold his hand just so they wouldn’t be separated by the swarms of people everywhere. He seemed surprised by the gesture, but didn’t seem to mind it. His long fingers curled around her smaller ones, keeping her in a firm but gentle grip, and Victoria found she didn’t mind his boney hands after a while.

“It’s not gonna be easy, Victoria. He’s a busy man.” Victoria didn’t respond except to tighten her grip slightly before a billboard caught her eye.

“Ernesto de la Cruz’s Sunrise Spectacular,” she read, and looked up to see Hector rolling his eyes, unimpressed.

“Blech. Every year, Ernesto puts on that dumb show to mark the end of Dia de los Muertos.”

“And you can get us in,” she said, remembering what he’d told the man in the office earlier. He gave her an uncomfortable smile.

“Ahh-”

“You said you had front row tickets,” Victoria said in an accusatory tone, slipping her hand out of Hector’s and crossing her arms.

“That...that was a lie. I apologize for that.” Victoria’s nostrils flared, and Hector shrank back with a nervous smile.

“Calm down, chica, I’ll get you to him.”

“How?” Victoria asked, still skeptical.

“Because I happen to know where he’s rehearsing.” He held out his hand again, and after a moment of hesitation Victoria took it. She could still get lost, after all.

Hector led her on a winding path deeper into the city, up several sets of escalators and stairs until they arrived at a large warehouse. He let go of Victoria’s hand to pull off his own arm, and used his suspenders as a slingshot to shoot it to the third floor. The arm tapped on a window, and a minute later a frazzled looking woman with paint in her hair opened the window and peered down at them.

“Hola, Isa!” Hector called. The woman narrowed her eyes.

“Hector?” Isa lowered the escape ladder, and Victoria saw Hector gulp as they started to climb. Isa let Hector and Victoria climb through the window, and shut it before whacking Hector with his own arm. “Idiota!” she bellowed. “I _needed_ that paint for the sets, but you and your stupid sob story-and it didn’t even work!” Hector flinched back, trying and failing to snatch his arm back as Isa continued to pummel him with it. “Have you ever worked for an artist, Hector? Do you know how fussy they can be?”

“Isa-”

Victoria left them to it, obviously Isa had a lot of venting to do. She reminded Victoria of her abuelita, and her heart twinged with guilt as she thought how worried she and the rest of her family must be. She started to explore the warehouse and poked her head through every door she found, searching for Elena.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe Ceci isn't dead yet, did you think of that?  
> Thanks for reading, please leave a comment!


	5. Chapter 5

“Elena!” Victoria called down every hallway, but no one answered. Isa’s shouts had faded behind her, and Victoria had wandered into a part of the warehouse that looked like it was used for storage. There were huge paper-mache skulls and alebrijes everywhere, piled on top of each other. “Elena!” Suddenly, Victoria saw movement out of the corner of her eye and whipped around to see a paper mache sculpture of a skull with yellow and purple markings. The skull scooted forward, and Victoria jumped back, watching it curiously. It tipped back, revealing a small, green monkey that chattered curiously upon seeing her. Victoria stared with wide eyes and didn’t dare to move as it approached her cautiously. The monkey looked up at her for a moment, before suddenly grabbing the hem of Victoria’s dress and pulling her forward. It was nowhere near strong enough to pull her anywhere, but the tiny monkey put up such a huge fuss, screeching and screaming and tugging when she didn’t move, that she started walking where it pulled her just to get it to be quiet.

She had to run after it to avoid falling over, hardly taking note of the shouting and bustling noises they were approaching, and skidded to a halt when it stopped on a dime. The monkey had led her to a female skeleton who was loudly directing several other people around a large space in the warehouse.

“No, no, no!” she yelled. “I need more lights, more flames, more dead animals!” The green monkey jumped onto the woman’s shoulder, and she scratched its chin as she said, “If I must be the opening act for some musico, it will be the best opening act in the show’s history.” The monkey made an odd chirping noise that sounded like an agreement. Victoria took a step back, and the movement caught the woman’s eye.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded as she spun around. It was Frida Kahlo, an artist who had died earlier that year.

Victoria couldn’t make any noise for a moment, she only opened her mouth and closed it before stammering, “I just followed-” Victoria pointed at the monkey, who climbed off the Frida Kahlo’s arm and patted Victoria’s cheek. Frida relaxed immediately and regarded Victoria for a moment, stroking her chin.

“If my alebrije led you here, then this is where you must be!” she declared, and Victoria blinked at her sudden increase in volume. Frida gasped, and Victoria jumped. “I need your eyes, come!” She grabbed Victoria’s hand and dragged her to a small bench. “You are the audience.” She clapped her hands, and after a short, frenzied moment, her workers had the stage set.

“First, darkness.” Before Victoria could even blink, the entire warehouse had gone completely black. “And then-with a flash of light-” A very powerful flash of light, almost directly into Victoria’s eyes. When her eyes adjusted, the stage was full of people in normal clothes, walking in tight formations around each other. “Order. Peace. Harmony.” Victoria sat very still, afraid to move, unwilling to draw Frida’s attention back to her. “And from harmony-chaos!” The skeletons on stage shifted their patterns, just slightly, but it was enough. Suddenly they were all running into each other, stepping on feet and knocking skulls, and soon they were all flying at each other, their fists making unsettling noises against each others’ bones. “And from chaos-”  _ Please be done, please be done- _

“Passion!” Victoria didn’t know what was happening anymore, she didn’t  _ want  _ to know what was happening, she only stared straight ahead and tried not to see anything. Frida turned to Victoria, and she shrank back, her eyes wide behind her glasses. “Is it too obvious?”

“Um-” Victoria swallowed and cleared her throat. “I think...it’s just the right amount of obvious.” The skeletons on stage started untangling themselves from each other, and Victoria relaxed a little when she saw that she could tell where one skeleton ended and another began.

Frida was waiting for her to continue, so Victoria searched for something to add. “Ah-is there going to be any sound?” Frida glanced up at her workers, then looked back down at Victoria, confused. “It-it looks…” Victoria trailed off, unable to think of a single word to describe what she’d seen. “But it sounds…” she trailed off again, hoping she could find Hector soon, if Isa had given him his arm back, and get out. Frida smacked her forehead.

“Of course! Yes, you’re absolutely right!” She whirled around and snapped at a small orchestra beside the stage. “Orchestra! Music!” The musicians all glanced at each other, then back at Frida. “Well?” she demanded, and the violin player looked around at the rest of the orchestra and shrugged. They all raised their instruments, and were about to start when- “Stop! That’s all wrong!” Frida shouted, and the musicians put down their instruments, some looking offended, others slightly relieved. “You!” Victoria jumped again. “What do you think? We need music!” Victoria stiffened.

Her entire life had been shaped around two rules: family comes first, and music destroys everything it touches.

The family rule was easy enough to understand and follow, but the music one was harder. Everyone in Mexico loved music, and though Victoria tried to follow her abuelita’s rules, sometimes it was impossible. She couldn’t stop her classmates from singing on the playground or her teachers from humming in between classes, and her path to school led her straight through Mariachi Plaza, a place swarming with musicians and filled with music. And despite her attempted obedience, Victoria couldn’t help liking music, just a little.

But suggesting what to play, that was a whole other matter. It wasn’t just about disobedience anymore, she really had no idea what would sound good for...whatever she had just watched. But Frida was staring at her expectantly, and Victoria found her just disarming enough to try to think of something.

“Uh…” Music should go with everything else, right? What had happened at the beginning? “Maybe something...sudden?” She cringed, feeling like an idiot, but Frida nodded for her to continue. “Then...nice? And then…” She remembered the sudden change in the dancers’ movements and the ensuing chaos. “Not nice? And after that…” There really were no words to describe what had happened after that, but Frida clapped her hands, looking absolutely joyful.

“Inspired!” she cried. “Orchestra!” They tried again, and though she made a conscious effort not to, Victoria liked what she heard. Just a little. “Perfecto!” She sent Victoria a smile, and Victoria felt her own lips twitching up in response. “Now, then, the music fades, the dancers exit, and the lights go out.” As she was speaking, hordes of skeletons with harried expressions raced around to do as she said. “And Ernesto de la Cruz rises to the stage.” Frida said the name with some distaste, but Victoria didn’t notice, she was too busy watching a silhouette on a pedestal rising from a trap door. A spotlight shined down on it, and Victoria wilted in disappointment. It was a mannequin.

“He does a couple songs, the sun rises,” Frida continued, oblivious to Victoria’s reaction. “Everyone cheers-”

“Excuse me,” Victoria cut in, anxiously clenching her hands into fists in her lap. “Where is the real de la Cruz?”  _ Where is my sister? _ Frida snorted.

“Apparently, he doesn’t  _ do  _ rehearsals. He’s too busy hosting a fancy party at the top of his tower.” Frida gestured out a large window. In the distance was a huge tower, brightly lit up and covered in fountains and statues. For a moment, Victoria felt in awe of the grand place, before she realized how far away it was.

“They’re all the way up there?” she asked quietly. Suddenly, with a loud clatter of running skeleton feet, Hector rounded a corner, out of breath.

“Chica!” he gasped, clutching his ribcage as he approached her. “You can’t run off on me like that!” Hector put an arm around Victoria’s shoulder. “Come on, stop pestering the celebrities.”

“You said de la Cruz would be here,” Victoria said as she ducked out from under his arm. “He’s halfway across town, throwing some party!” She pointed out the window at the glittering estate.

“That bum! Who doesn’t come to his own rehearsal?” Victoria wasn’t listening, she was pressed against the window, wishing she could fall through it and be at the tower in an instant. More than needing to get out of the Land of the Dead, Victoria was worried about her sister, she  _ missed  _ her, more than she thought she could. 

Hector saw she wasn’t paying attention to his rant about lazy performers, and looked over his shoulder to call, “Hey, Gustavo!” Victoria turned to see the violinist look up from putting his violin in its case. “You know anything about this party?”

“Si, it’s the hot ticket,” Gustavo said with a grin. “But if you’re not on the guest list, you’re never getting in, Chorizo.” Hector flinched, and the other musicians seemed to notice him for the first time.

“Hey, it’s Chorizo!” one yelled, and they all laughed.

“Very funny, guys,” Hector said, his face darkening as they continued to tease him. “Very funny.”

“Chorizo?” Victoria asked, and Hector crossed his arms, looking grumpy.

“Oh, this guy’s famous!” Gustavo told her, in a mocking voice. “Go on, ask him how he died!” Victoria looked up at Hector curiously, but he only pouted and looked away.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“He choked! On some chorizo!” Gustavo taunted, and burst into laughter. The other musicians followed suit, but Victoria looked up at Hector for confirmation. 

When he heard she wasn’t laughing, he glanced down and said, “I got food poisoning.” The musicians continued howling and slapping each other on the back, but Victoria only nodded. Hector blinked down at her, surprised, and smiled in disbelief as she reached up and took his hand.

“Can we go now?” she asked, gesturing to the tower out the window, and his small smile grew into a wide grin.

“Si, chica. I’ll get us in there.” He moved to lead her out of the warehouse, but Gustavo called them back before they could get away.

“If you really want to get to Ernesto, there is that music competition at the Plaza de la Cruz. Winner gets to play at his party.” Victoria looked up at Hector, whose eyes widened when he realized what she was thinking.

“Chica, you’re loco if you think-”

“I need to find de la Cruz,” Victoria said firmly, stuffing her hand into her pocket to avoid seeing the bones that were rapidly becoming more visible. “Do you know anyone who can win for us?” Hector blinked.

“Ah…” That had obviously not been the question he expected, and he floundered for words for a moment before his face lit up. “Actually,” he said with a cautious smile. “I know a guy.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know much about Frida Kahlo, I just made her slightly crazy and hoped it would work. Same with the art, though nothing will ever top a flaming papaya.
> 
> Thanks for reading, please leave a comment :)


	6. Chapter 6

Elena twiddled her thumbs and slumped back in her seat, trying not to wish that Victoria was with her. She had heard her sister screeching after her as she ran away, but she hadn’t turned back. It hadn’t taken her long to find the stadium, she had simply followed the billboards and walked around the outside until she had found a door. There were a lot of skeletons milling around backstage, but none in the stadium itself, so Elena had slipped out without being seen and found herself a comfortable chair near the stage to wait for de la Cruz.

But that had been several hours ago, and Elena was starting to wonder whether she should have just stayed with Victoria. No one had ventured out from backstage since she had gotten there, and Elena’s hands were completely transparent. It had taken her a while to notice, but she was slowly turning into a skeleton, and she wished she could ask Victoria about it.

“How did you get in-ah!” Elena sprang up from her seat and whipped around to see skeleton man who had just fallen over in his shock. “You-you’re alive!”

“Si,” Elena said, as if it were obvious. “Do you know how to find Ernesto de la Cruz?” The skeleton blinked, his jaw hanging from his skull.

“I-what?”

“I’m looking for Ernesto de la Cruz, do know where he is?”

“He’s-ah-” The skeleton swallowed. “He’s not here right now. B-but,” he said hurriedly when Elena frowned. “He will be here later! You can-” He glanced towards the stage, and Elena turned to see where he was looking.

There was a small box next to the orchestra pit, barely big enough for two people. After scrambling to his feet, the skeleton led Elena to it and dragged in a chair for her to sit in. He sat next to her, casting her glances every few seconds, like he was checking to see if she was still there.

Most of the space was taken up by a large table that was covered in buttons and switches, and the skeleton starting pressing and switching several of them as Elena watched curiously. One large red button caught her interest, and she reached out to push it before the skeleton smacked her hand back. Elena pouted and crossed her arms.

“What does it do?” she asked, and the skeleton hesitated before answering.

“That button shuts down the orchestra’s microphones,” he said, and Elena looked over the rest of the buttons before a large contraption caught her eye.

“What is that?” she asked. The man glanced up from his buttons to see what she was pointing at.

“That’s a camera.” Elena blinked. The cameras she’d seen before were a lot smaller.

“How does it work?”

\---

“How much farther is it?” Victoria asked, breathing hard but trying not to show it.

“Almost there, chica,” Hector said, and smiled down at her. They were on the edge of the city now, it was dark and gloomy and Victoria had tripped several times over trash and junk in the path.

“So,” Hector said conversationally. “How do a living girl and her sister end up in the Land of the Dead, anyway?” Victoria hunched her shoulders and looked at the ground, unwilling to confess to her stupid mistake. If she hadn’t tried to steal the guitar, she and Elena would be safe at home, celebrating Dia de los Muertos with their family. Hector picked up on her discomfort, and kindly moved on without waiting for an answer. “So, do you have a favorite de la Cruz song?” Victoria didn’t notice his hastily concealed distaste, but she looked up at the slight sharpness in his voice.

“No,” she said. “I don’t know any songs.”

“All right,” he said, sounding a little relieved for some reason. “His stuff isn’t for everybody, what kind of music do you like listening to?”

“I don’t listen to music,” Victoria said. “I’m not allowed.” Hector stopped and frowned down at her.

“No music? Ever?” Victoria shook her head.

“A long time ago, Abuelita’s husband left because of music, and he never came back.” Something flickered across Hector’s face, but he quickly shook it off.

“So you really don’t know _any_ songs?” Victoria shook her head, then caught herself.

“Well, I know one song, my teacher sings it all the time, but that’s the only one.”

“What song is it?” Hector asked, kicking a piece of trash out of her way.

“Señora Martinez says it’s called ‘La Llorona.’” Hector blinked, then smiled, seemingly at a memory.

“I know that song,” he said, but he wasn’t looking at Victoria. He was smiling dreamily and staring off into the distance, until he tripped over a loose board on the walkway they were taking away from the city. He cleared his throat and said, “We’re almost there. Then we just have to convince my friend to play for us, eh?” Victoria didn’t answer, she tripped and stumbled forward before she could. “Woah, there, chica!” Hector kept a firm hold on her hand and pulled her upright, away from the ledge she almost fallen over. “Let’s go this way, si?” he said gently, pointing down a rickety-looking staircase. Victoria nodded mutely, her eyes wide as she stared down the ledge. Hector pulled her away and helped her down the stairs, and gave her hand a squeeze when they reached the bottom.

“Here we are!” he said gesturing around grandly. They passed through an arch and entered what looked like a small town, lit up by lanterns and small fires, as opposed to the bright lights of the city. Skeletons were standing in clusters around whatever sources of light they could find, talking and playing cards. They all looked happy, despite the gloominess of their surroundings, and Hector shouted greetings to several of them.

“Aay, Tio, Primo! These guys!” he called, pointing to them with a grin. Most of them responded with enthusiasm.

“Ay, it’s Hector!”

“Hola, Primo!

“Back so soon?” Hector shrugged at the last woman’s question, and she gave him a sympathetic smile.

“There he is!” Hector said after a moment, and tugged Victoria towards a short man who was drinking with a few giggly old ladies. “Chicharron!” The man looked up and rolled his eyes.

“Hola, Hector. What do you want?” Hector slapped a hand dramatically over his chest, gasping and looking very offended.

“Ay, Cheech, you wound me! How do you know I want anything?”

“You’re never this cheerful unless you want something. What is it?” Hector harrumphed, and Victoria had to stifle a laugh as the old ladies giggled.

“Well, now that you mention it…” Chicharron gave the old ladies a knowing glance and settled back in his seat to listen. “I do happen to need a favor.”

“Let’s hear it, then,” Cheech said, and Hector looked affronted at the interruption.

“Well, my friend here,” he gestured to Victoria, who looked up at them shyly, “needs to get into this party, and it looks like the only way in is to win this music contest. So, Cheech, I was wondering if you could-”

“No.” Victoria’s heart plummeted, and Chicharron momentarily looked uncomfortable at her disappointment before turning back to Hector. “Whatever it is, no. If you want my guitar, no. If you want me to perform, no. Comprende?”

“Cheech-”

“You know that guitar is important to me, Hector. And that I will never perform on a stage, like a monkey.” Victoria tightened her grip on Hector’s hand, and he squeezed back reassuringly.

“Chicharron, we really need-”

“What part of ‘no’ do you not understand, Hector, I’ll explain it for you.” Hector frowned, then turned to Victoria. For a second, she thought he was going to tell her they were out of luck, that there was no way to get in and that all hope was lost. She took a shuddering breath, trying to prepare herself.

“Eh, may I, chica?” he asked, and pointed at the hair covering her left ear. She frowned, but nodded, and he gently swept some of her hair over her ear. Cheech and the ladies practically leapt back when they saw her ear and the skin on her neck.

“You’re alive?” Cheech sputtered, and Victoria nodded.

“So is my sister. She’s looking for de la Cruz.” She paused, trying to calm her own breathing. “And I-I know she can find him. So, I have to find him too, so we can both go home.” Chicharron opened his mouth, then closed it and glanced up at Hector. Hector gave him a nervous, pleading grin, and Chicharron sighed.

“Fine,” he grunted.

“Ay, Cheech, you’re the best amigo I ever had! How will I ever-”

“I’m not performing.” Hector stopped mid-sentence, the exaggerated smile frozen on his face.

“Eh, what was that Cheech?”

“You can have the guitar, Hector, but you have to play it, I’m not going to.” Victoria looked up as Hector searched for a response, wondering why he hadn’t said he was a musician, and why he had to ask his friend for help if he could just play himself.

“Cheech-” Hector leaned forward and lowered his voice in a futile attempt to keep Victoria from hearing. “You know I don’t play anymore, we really need you to-”

“You want a performance, you give a performance Hector.” Cheech crossed his arms and lifted his chin, daring Hector to defy him. Hector didn’t say anything, he only grimaced and glanced back at Victoria. “You still want the guitar?” Hector hesitated and Cheech drew a battered looking guitar from under the table. He looked back at Victoria again, and she stared up at him, waiting for his decision, knowing it would decide her fate, as well as Elena’s. Hector gulped.

“Si, Cheech, I want the guitar.” Chicharron blinked, surprised, as Hector grabbed the guitar from him. “Gracias.” He didn’t sound very grateful, Victoria thought as they left the way they came, only depressed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about having someone fade, but nah.  
> Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it!


	7. Chapter 7

Their journey back into the city was silent, except for Hector tuning the guitar with a despondent look on his face. He led Victoria to a trolley and helped her in, then walked to the back section. He sat on the railing and continued to tune the guitar, barely jerking when the trolley started to move. Victoria stood next to him and watched the city go by underneath them. It was a beautiful place, she had to admit, even though she hoped she wouldn’t have to come back for a long time.

“Why didn’t you say you were a musician?” she eventually asked. Hector sighed and hunched over the guitar, not looking Victoria in the face.

“I don’t really play anymore, chica,” he said quietly. Victoria wanted to ask why, but she could tell he was upset and didn’t want to push him. He was her only friend in this place, after all. She let him tune the guitar and try out a few chords in silence, and looked out over the city for the rest of the ride. After a while, the trolley came to an abrupt stop, and Victoria stumbled a little. Hector perked up.

“Welcome to the Plaza de la Cruz!” he said, gesturing to the crowded plaza. Victoria stared out at the plaza as Hector helped her down, she had never seen a space so filled with color and activity. There was a giant statue of de la Cruz in the center, like the one in Santa Cecilia. Around the edges of the plaza, kiosks were selling all sorts of things, all of them featuring de la Cruz. Refrigerator magnets, shot glasses, tote bags, postcards, even tambourines with de la Cruz’s face on them. Merchants were trying to be heard over each other, each shouting louder than the last about their one-night Dia de Muertos specials. Skeleton children were running around with sparklers while adults sang and danced to the music that seemed to be coming from every corner of the plaza. Victoria grabbed Hector’s hand again, overwhelmed by all the music and people, and Hector quickly led her around the side of the plaza to the back of an elevated stage. While Hector was talking to the manager about getting on the list, Victoria looked around at all the other musicians who were warming up and rehearsing one last time before the performance. Victoria noticed that most of the musicians were playing and singing different versions of the same song, but Hector pulled her away from the stage before she could figure out too many of the words.

“We’re in,” he said as he sat on a crate, and Victoria relaxed slightly as she sat next to him.

“What are you going to play? Everyone else sounds like they’re playing the same song.” She pointed at a few of the other performers, a man and a woman singing a dramatic duet, and Hector rolled his eyes.

“Ehck, that song’s been butchered enough for a lifetime,” he said bitterly, before forcing a smile onto his face. “Aay, I know the perfect one!” he said, and started playing a complex little tune, frowning when he hit a sour note. He adjusted one of the pegs and tried again, nodding in satisfaction when it played correctly.

“What’s that song about?” Victoria asked as the show began and the first groups started performing.

“It’s about how love can make you crazy,” he answered, spinning his skull on his neck until it popped off, and giving Victoria a silly grin. Victoria smiled back as Hector put his head back on his body.

“Oy, Hector, you’re on standby,” a stagehand said, and Hector nodded.

Victoria watched as he fiddled with the strings, absentmindedly playing a nervous riff. “Are you scared?” she asked, and he gave her a sheepish smile.

“Eh, not really,” he said unconvincingly. “I just haven’t performed in a long time.” He shook himself and smiled confidently. “But don’t worry, I’ll get you into that party.” Victoria scooted closer to him on his crate.

“I’m not worried,” she said, looking up into his anxious eyes. “Gracias, Hector.” Hector blinked, and Victoria was surprised to see tears welling in his eyes. He laughed.

“Don’t thank me yet, chica.”

\---

“Hector, you’re on!” Hector stood up and squared his shoulders, and Victoria followed him to the steps of the stage. They waited for the emcee to announce him.

“All right, chica, this is it.” He rolled his shoulders and shook the stiff anxiety from his fingers.

“Damas y caballeros! Hector!” After taking a deep breath, Hector ran on stage with a loud grito, and the crowd cheered. He launched into the song without hesitating, muscle memory bringing back the notes and chords in an instant. He played the introduction effortlessly and started to sing, imagining he was playing to the person who he’d written the song for, who he still loved, who was still so angry she refused to put his photo up-

Hector faltered and botched a note, but forced himself to keep going, thinking instead of his beautiful daughter, the second of his two loves, who was probably grown up by now and had children of her own-

He wavered again and began an impromptu musical interlude, playing random improvisations as he danced around the stage, trying to get himself together. When he’d performed in the past, he’d always imagined he was singing to someone he loved, and it had always gotten him through every performance. But it wasn’t working now, he missed them too much, it was only choking him up. He’d never been a natural at performing for strangers, it was always Ernesto who engaged the audience and got them excited. But he needed to impress this crowd, for Victoria’s sake, and he steeled himself to continue.

He wrapped up his improvisation and leaned toward the microphone, ready to begin the second verse, when a new but achingly familiar sound gave him pause. He scrambled into another musical interlude, looking around for the sound as he played. His eyes landed on Victoria, who, if nothing else, had certainly made this Dia de los Muertos an interesting one.

She was standing by the stairs, clutching her sides and practically shrieking with laughter. It was the first time she’d laughed since he had met her, and Hector’s phantom heart almost burst at the sound. He couldn’t tell what she was laughing at; whether it was the silly lyrics or his ridiculous dancing; but somehow, she sounded exactly like Coco. Her laughter started to peter out as he stood in the middle of the stage, unmoving except for his hands still strumming the guitar, and Hector launched himself into the second verse with renewed vigor. He sang louder, his movements were more exaggerated and he was sure the faces he was making were completely absurd but he didn’t care, as long as Victoria kept laughing. He turned back to audience, who responded enthusiastically to his renewed energy, but cast Victoria glances every few notes. He got more energetic with every sight of her delighted face.

All too soon, he had to draw the song to a close, and wrapped it up with a loud grito as the audience burst into applause. He looked at Victoria to see her reaction, then frowned and started running off stage.

“Hey!”

\---

Victoria had enjoyed the performance very much, she couldn’t even find it in her to feel guilty for liking the music, though her abuelita would have been furious. Hector was hilarious, with his big goofy grins and funny dancing, and Victoria couldn’t stifle the laughter that bubbled up in her. She was disappointed when she saw that Hector was wrapping up, but before she could start to clap, a strong, bony hand grabbed her arm.

“I found her!” the guard yelled, but the crowd’s applause drowned him out.

“Let go of me!” Remembering how easily Hector came apart, Victoria grabbed the guard’s hand and pulled, as hard as she could, until his hand popped off of his wrist. She pulled the hand off her arm and threw it at him, then turned and ran straight into Hector.

“What’s going on?” he demanded as the guard reattached his hand. 

“We just want to send her home! We found someone to give you their blessing,” he said to Victoria, who was clutching Hector’s arm. She tried to pull him away, but Hector looked down at her transparent hands and didn’t move. A thoughtful look came over his face as more guards converged on their position. Victoria’s breathing sped up, her eyes were jumping from guard, trying to keep them all in her sights. She was so close, she just had to get into the tower and find Elena, she just needed more time.

“Victoria,” Hector said gently, and she looked up at him, close to panic. “You should go home. I can go to the tower and find your sister, and you can-”

“What?” Victoria asked, her voice shaking. “No. No!” She let go of his arm and took a step back, away from the guards and the man she had thought was her friend. “You said you would help me!” Hector grimaced regretfully. He reached forward and tried to take her hand, but Victoria jerked away from him. “I can’t leave without Elena!” she cried, but no one, Hector or the guards, answered. Victoria reached into her coat and threw Hector’s photo at him. He lunged for it, and Victoria spun on her heel and ran away, past the stage and out of the plaza. She didn’t know how to get to the tower but she didn’t care, she would figure it out, she didn’t need anybody to help her. 

“Victoria!” She stopped in her tracks and turned around in the middle of the street, shocked.

“Josefina? What are you doing here?” The woman who had led her across the bridge paused before answering, to catch her breath.

“Ay Dios mio,” she panted. “I’ve been looking for you all night, niña.” Victoria glanced back at the tower in the distance and back at Josefina, who took a step forward. “The Department found some of your family, they just need to hold a petal and bless you and you can go home, please Victoria, you can’t stay here.” Victoria gaped at her and stepped back, stunned that a stranger would have searched the city for her for hours. For a second, she was tempted to step forward, to take Josefina’s hand and go back with her and just go home. Her whole night had been a frenzy of fear and desperate hope and one disappointment after another, and she was completely exhausted. She missed her mama, she missed her abuelita and tia and tios and papa and suddenly she felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She just wanted to go home, she never should have left. Josefina reached for her, and Victoria leaned forward just slightly, when something flickered in her peripheral vision.

One of the powerful spotlights lighting up de la Cruz’s tower had reflected perfectly off one of the fountains. It was so far away. It would be so much easier to just go home.

Victoria took a step back, then turned and ran away from Josefina, toward the glittering tower.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Off she goes.  
> Thanks for reading, please leave a comment :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got some writer's block but finally got through this one, it was tough. I like the result, though.

It didn’t take long for Victoria to get to the tower, though keeping to the shadows slowed her down a bit. She forced herself to think only of Elena, determined not to regret running from Hector and Josefina. I don’t need them, she told herself, over and over again. I don’t need them.

She finally got to the bottom of the tower after making her way through several alleys and up dozens of flights of stars, and her shoulders sagged as she looked up at it. It was swarming with skeletons in fancy suits and long dresses, who were being escorted to a cliff rail that ran up the tower. Every guest was being screened by security, and they all had to show an invitation, there was no way for her to get in undetected. 

As she caught her breath, she watched three skeletons, a man, a woman, and their child, step up to the guard. After checking their invitation, the guard let them in, and the child darted past the guard and ran into the cliff rail, leaving his parents to follow at a more sedate pace. Victoria watched the car ascend the hill, and bit her lip as she considered her options. Even from where she was hidden, she could see the child’s excited face pressed against the window almost all the way up. Victoria clenched her fists, tightened her jaw, and stepped out of the shadows.

She quickly scanned the area, and approached a couple that seemed to be keeping to themselves. “Perdon,” she said, interrupting their conversation. They looked down in unison, identical, skeptical looks on their faces. They were both far taller than her, and very dressed up; the man was in an expensive looking suit and the woman was wearing a floor-length black dress. Victoria hesitated as they stared down at her, and the man raised his brow at her silence.

“Si?” the woman eventually prompted, and swept a lock of shining black hair over her shoulder. Victoria swallowed, desperately hoping they would listen to her.

“I-I need to get into that tower,” she said, and nodded at the glittering structure. The man rolled his eyes and he and the woman shared an exasperated glance.

“Look, kid,” the man said, “I get it, you’re a fan of de la Cruz, you want to see him-”

“No!” Victoria interrupted in a shrill voice. “No, I-” she paused and bit her lip, searching for an explanation. “My sister is in there, I need to find her-”

“We have to go, it was nice to meet you,” the woman said with forced kindness, and she and her husband turned to walk away.

“No, please!” the urgency in her voice gave them pause. Victoria took several shallow breaths, and glanced around to see if anyone was watching. Remembering how Hector had convinced Chicharron and praying they wouldn’t scream, she took a step closer to the couple and pulled her hair back. They stumbled back in shock as she revealed her ear and some of the skin on her neck. Their mouths dropped open, and the woman clenched the man’s arm as Victoria let her hair fall back around her face.

“I have to find my sister,” she said in a shaky voice. “So we can go home.” They stared at her for an unbearably long moment, then glanced at each other. The man seemed convinced, but the woman looked more hesitant.  “Please help me,” Victoria said, sounding small and desperate. The woman glanced at her husband, who shrugged, looking completely nonplussed. “Please.” The woman glanced at the security guard at the gate, then pulled Victoria to a more secluded spot. 

“You can’t go in like this,” she said under her breath. She tied Victoria’s coat shut and adjusted her scarf, then brushed the dust off her skirt. She didn’t look satisfied, but nodded to her husband, who held out his arm. The woman took his arm and then grabbed Victoria’s hand, and together they led her to the line.

The guard gave Victoria a skeptical look and glanced at the couple with a raised brow, but the man only held out his invitation. The guard took it hesitantly, still sending Victoria vaguely suspicious glances. But everything was in order, and the guard had no choice but to let them pass. Victoria walked with the couple and didn’t break away from them until the cliff rail started to move. Victoria didn’t say anything as they traveled up, she only positioned herself as close to the door as was possible and waited for it to open.

It took an unbearably long time for the car to reach the top, and Victoria bolted from the doors as soon as they opened. After a few steps, though, she halted and turned back.

“Gracias,” she said to the couple, and the woman nodded. Then Victoria turned and ran.

She had to find de la Cruz, if Elena wasn’t with him she was going to be, and Victoria darted towards the grand, lavish mansion where the party seemed to be centered. There were people outside milling around, talking and enjoying the entertainment, but Victoria was sure that de la Cruz would be in the middle of everything.

“Look, it’s Ernesto!” Victoria’s head snapped to the speaker, a woman in a pink dress, then to where she was pointing. A tall, broad skeleton in a white charro suit was walking up the steps to the mansion, laughing and greeting people like he’d just gotten there. Victoria sprinted up the stairs, but he moved on before she could reach him. The crowd was thicker inside, but they all parted for de la Cruz to pass and closed the gap around him as Victoria struggled through.

After several collisions and hasty apologies, Victoria ducked under a skeleton man’s arm and into a huge circular hall. For a moment, she was dumbstruck, and gaped around at her surroundings, completely forgetting about de la Cruz.

Hundreds of guests were crowded into the hall, and waiters carrying silver platter were slipping around the edges, disappearing through a small door and returning laden with champagne flutes and hors d’oeuvres, which were quickly consumed. There were dozens of performers scattered everywhere, jugglers, musicians, contortionists and many others. Several long, white banners were hanging on the walls, serving as projector screens for what Victoria guessed were clips from de la Cruz movies. Synchronized swimmers were making formations in a guitar-shaped indoor pool, and loud music was pumping through speakers in the center of the hall, almost drowning out all other noise. Victoria’s eyes were wide with astonishment as she stared around her at the opulence and glamour, until an enthusiastic guest ran into her and almost knocked her to the ground.

Elena, she told herself sternly as she regained her balance, you’re here to find Elena. She looked around for de la Cruz, but he had disappeared into the crowd. Victoria fought her way down the stairs, looking around for any sign of her sister.

“Elena!” she called, but the music swallowed her voice. Victoria continued to struggle forward, shouting as she went. “Elena! Elena!” No one paid her any attention, not one person she passed even looked her way. The floor was completely packed, skeletons were pressing in on her from every side, and Victoria felt her heart rate skyrocketing and her voice getting shriller as she kept screaming. 

“Elena!” She fought forward, desperate to get out of the crush of skeletons. “Ele-” Suddenly, the ground wasn’t there anymore, and she instinctively clapped a hand to her face to keep her glasses on as she tumbled into the pool.

The water was mind-numbingly cold, and Victoria’s body stiffened as her scarf drifted in front of her face, blocking her sight and immediately disorienting her. She grabbed at the scarf, but her thrashing wrapped it further around her head. She was already out of air, and darkness had begun gathering around the edges of her vision when she felt a strong hand grab her arm. She went limp, allowing the hand to pull her to the surface and drag her, gasping, to the side of the pool. She was lifted out of the water and onto the ground, and she heard someone climbing out of the pool behind her.

“Are you all right, niña?” a voice asked as Victoria coughed and sputtered. She rubbed her eyes and adjusted her glasses before looking up at the figure bending over her. His giant hat was gone, apparently thrown aside as he dove into the pool, and his charro suit was soaked.

It was Ernesto de la Cruz.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like nice strangers. They're convenient. And ta-da, the main bastard himself. Thanks for reading, please leave a comment :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we have exhibit one of Ernesto being a first-class creep.

Victoria wiped her face with her sopping jacket, and then squinted at the gray stuff that rubbed off onto her sleeve before she realized it was her disguise, and that the pool water must have washed it off. The crowd gasped and she heard shocked whispers sweeping through the room. She looked up at de la Cruz. His face spasmed and his teeth were on edge, for a moment he looked close to swearing. But his face became confused and concerned so quickly, Victoria wondered if she had imagined it.

“It’s you,” he said, sounding wary. “You’re that girl, from the Land of the Living.” Victoria straightened, watching him with cautious interest. “Why did you come here?”

“I’m looking for my sister.” There it was again, his face definitely twitched. “She was looking for you, we need your help to go home.” No need to go into detail, she thought, unsure whether he would send her home if he knew what she had tried to do to his guitar. The entire room seemed to be holding its breath, and de la Cruz glanced around at the crowd surreptitiously before holding a hand out to help Victoria to her feet.

“This is a large mansion, niña, she must be here somewhere. And we can all help look, si?” He spread his arms grandly, and the crowd erupted into cheers. His grip on her hand unusually tight, de la Cruz started leading Victoria through the party, barging into mingling guests and interrupting their conversations with, “Have you seen a living girl? Not this one,” he always said with a chuckle, nodding at Victoria. “Her sister-what’s your sister’s name?”

“Elena.” Victoria told him a dozen times, but he asked with every new guest, and the conversations seemed to be getting longer as they continued. Eventually she got frustrated with his slow pace and tried to slip away, but his hand tightened on hers.

“Careful, Victoria,” he said with a booming laugh. “We don’t want to lose you, too!” Victoria scowled, but her frustration quickly faded into worry. She had taken her soaked jacket off, and all the bones in her arms were now visible, her nearly transparent skin glowing faintly.

“What’s wrong, mija?” de la Cruz asked loudly, drawing the attention of several guests as he kneeled in front of her, looking concerned. _No soy tu hija,_ she thought, but he continued before she could answer. “Come, I know what might cheer you up!” He dragged her to the side of the hall and stopped in front of one of the banners. A movie she had never seen was being projected onto it, de la Cruz’s character and an older man were in an office. “Have you seen this movie?” Again, he didn’t wait for an answer. “This is the best scene, mira, mira!” Victoria obeyed, glancing at the screen before turning and trying to look through the rest of the crowded room. “Mira!” His voice was suddenly harsh, and Victoria quickly turned back to the screen, startled.

“To our friendship!” the older character said with a hearty chuckle. “I would move heaven and earth for you, mi amigo!” He held out a glass, and de la Cruz’s character did the same. “Salud!” Both characters drank, but de la Cruz’s character spit out his drink.

“Poison!” he exclaimed dramatically, and leapt across the desk separating him from the other character.

“You, know, I did all my own stunts,” the real de la Cruz said with a smug grin. Victoria forced a smile.

Surely there was a more efficient way of searching the mansion that didn’t involve watching movies or talking to every person they passed. But de la Cruz only seemed to be really concerned with looking like he was searching for Elena and impressing his guests, not with actually finding her. Victoria wished she hadn’t asked him for help, she would have covered far more ground by now on her own.

They made their way into a space he called his ofrenda room, but it was really more of a warehouse than a room. It was filled with massive piles of offerings; pan dulces, bottles of tequila, flowers, guitars, and several huge stacks of fan mail.

“All of this came from my amazing fans in the Land of the Living!” de la Cruz boasted, gesturing around him at the mounds of gifts. In doing so, he finally let go of Victoria’s hand, and she darted away to look all over the gigantic room.

“Elena!” she called, running around every pile until she had completely canvassed the room.

“No luck?” de la Cruz asked from the window, where he was standing to watch his guests gathering below. Victoria shook her head, even though he wasn’t looking at her. She wanted to slip away and search the rest of the mansion, but something in her hesitated. She remembered de la Cruz’s intense stare and painfully tight grip when she had tried to get away before.

“She’s not here,” she answered from behind him, and he bowed his head.

“That’s unfortunate,” he said. His face brightened and he beckoned her to the window. “Ooh, the fireworks have begun!” Victoria walked up to the window and watched for a moment, trying to figure out how to proceed. Elena was here somewhere, she had to be. Victoria didn’t know what she would do if she wasn’t. She jumped when de la Cruz touched her shoulder.

“Come,” he said, and she followed him out of the ofrenda room and to the veranda overlooking the great hall. All the guests had gone outside to watch the fireworks and the lights were turned down, the space looked even larger than it had before. The movies were still playing, the speakers echoing through the cavernous space. Victoria peered into the darkness, squinting for any hint of movement, but there was nothing. De la Cruz sighed.

“Mija,” he said gently, looking sorrowful, “I don’t think your sister is here.” Victoria’s heart kicked into high gear, she could feel it pounding in her chest so hard it was painful. It wasn’t true. Elena had to be here, they just had to look some more-

De la Cruz plucked a marigold petal from a vase and turned to her, and Victoria stepped back, shaking her head.

“N-no, she has to be here, I have to-”

“Victoria,” he said firmly. “I cannot allow you to stay here. Sunrise is coming, I have to send you home. It’s for your own good.” Victoria wasn’t listening, she was trying to figure out what she had done wrong, what had happened that she couldn’t find Elena. She felt tears welling in her eyes, but she only stood, frozen, not allowing them to fall.

She had failed. She had failed her mama, her abuelita, and more than anyone she had failed Elena. She was the older sister, she was supposed to protect Elena, but she hadn’t. She took a deep, shuddering breath and finally began to cry. Her tears were hot on her face, but she didn’t wipe them away.

De la Cruz knelt in front of her and held out the petal. Victoria stared at it through her tears, not comprehending what was happening, except that Elena was still lost. Elena was never going home.

“Victoria, I give you my blessing.” The petal lit up, and Victoria blinked. She didn’t move, she didn’t know what to do anymore. She wanted her mama, she wanted someone to hold her and tell her everything was going to be all right. But there was only de la Cruz, and his insincere regret and glowing petal. He moved the petal toward her chest, he was inches away-

“We had a deal, chica!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it :) Please leave a comment


	10. Chapter 10

“Who’s there?” de la Cruz called into the darkness as he stood up, still holding the petal. “What is the meaning of this?” A skeleton stepped out of the shadows, and for a second Victoria thought of Frida Kahlo. The skeleton was dressed like she had been earlier, but its facial markings were wrong, and that hadn’t been her voice. De la Cruz, however, was completely fooled.

“Frida! I thought you couldn’t make it?” 

The skeleton rolled its eyes, ripping off the wig and dress as it said, “You promised you’d take back my photo!” Hector reattached his goatee as he marched toward them, before pausing and looking around in confusion. “Victoria,” he said, turning completely around in search of something before continuing, “where is your sister?”

Victoria tried to control herself, tried not to completely break down, but she couldn’t help it anymore. With a strangled cry, she threw herself into Hector’s arms, sobbing. “She’s not here!” she wailed. “I don’t know where she is and he wants to send me home-”

“Hey, hey,” Hector murmured, stroking her hair, and Victoria didn’t care that he was made of bones, she leaned into his comforting touch. “It’s okay.” De la Cruz frowned at them, looking at Hector with dawning recognition.

“Hector?” Hector stiffened and looked up at him. “My friend, you--you don’t look so good.”

“And whose fault is that?” Hector asked bitterly. Victoria kept a tight hold on Hector but turned to see de la Cruz’s reaction as Hector continued. “Those were my songs you took, my songs that made you famous.” Victoria shrank back a little, surprised by the venom in Hector’s voice. He’d been nothing but kind and gentle to everyone she’d seen him interact with that night. De la Cruz sent her a glance before trying to speak.

“Hector-” Hector put up a hand for de la Cruz to stop and took a deep breath.

“But, that’s not why I’m here.” He visibly forced himself to relax, to calm himself down. “Where is Elena, Ernesto?” he asked. De la Cruz’s jaw tightened.

“I don’t know.”

“Then help us look,” Hector demanded. “And then-” He looked down at Victoria, his eyes desperate. “Will you please take my photo back?” He drew the photo out of his shirt, and Victoria reached out to take it. But de la Cruz stepped forward and snatched it before she could, then examined it with apparent curiosity. “Ernesto,” Hector said after a moment. “The night I left, you said you’d move heaven and earth for your amigo.” Victoria blinked and looked up at him. “I’m asking you to now. Help us find the girl, and then-”

“Heaven and earth?” Victoria interrupted, letting go of Hector and taking a step back. She looked at de la Cruz. “Wasn’t that in the movie?” De la Cruz’s eyes widened, his hand clenching on the photo.

“What?” Hector asked, lost.

“That was in the movie he made me watch.” Victoria started scanning the banners, looking for the correct scene.

“I’m talking about my real life, Victoria.”

“No, it was in there.” She pointed. “Look.” Hector obeyed, following her gaze to one of the closest banners. 

It was the same scene as before; de la Cruz’s character accepting a drink from an old, fat character, who held out his glass and said, “This calls for a toast! To our friendship! I would move heaven and earth for you, mi amigo.” Victoria saw Hector jump, his eyes widening in recognition.

“But he poisoned the drink,” Victoria said, as the characters took a drink and de la Cruz spit his out.

“Poison!” he roared, and leapt across the table, but neither Victoria nor Hector were watching anymore. Victoria was looking at Hector, who was staring into space, lost in his memories.

“That night, Ernesto,” he said. “The night I left. We’d been performing on the road for months. I got homesick, and I packed up my songs.” He slowly turned to look at de la Cruz, who refused to meet his eyes. “You tried to convince me to stay, but I refused, and you said you’d send me off with a toast. We drank together, and then you walked me to the train station. But then, I felt a pain in my stomach, and I passed out.” Victoria looked back up at the screen. De la Cruz’s character had won, his friends were raising him onto their shoulders. “I woke up dead.” De la Cruz didn’t say anything. “You-you poisoned me.”

“You’re confusing movies with reality Hector,” de la Cruz said smoothly, glancing at Victoria as she backed away from him.

“All this time, I thought it was just bad luck,” Hector said, ignoring de la Cruz’s excuse. “I never thought that you might have…” He clenched his fists, and his face darkened. “That you…” Something snapped; suddenly Hector was bounding at de la Cruz as Victoria stumbled back, eyes wide with horror. Hector easily knocked de la Cruz to the ground, his rage giving him strength. “How could you?!”

“Security! Security!” Two guards rushed in and dragged Hector off of de la Cruz, despite his great resistance. 

“You rat!” Hector shouted, struggling against the guards as they dragged him out of the room. “I just wanted to go home!” The doors slammed shut.

Victoria’s heart was pounding, but she could hardly breathe as de la Cruz turned to her. “Where were we?” he asked politely, dusting himself off. Victoria didn’t answer, but her eyes darted to the petal in his hand. “Oh, yes.” He stepped forward, holding out the petal, but then hesitated. “Victoria…” He chuckled awkwardly. “I hope you don’t think-”

“That you murdered Hector?” Victoria finished, shrinking back.

“You don’t think that, do you?” Victoria didn’t answer, frightened by his suddenly intense gaze. She glanced at Hector’s photo, de la Cruz was still holding it. He waited for her to answer, but after a moment a dark shadow crossed over his face, and he stuffed the photo back in his pocket. “Security!” he called again, crushing the petal. The guards burst in again. “Take care of Victoria. She’ll be extending her stay.” They grabbed her arms without hesitating.

“What-but-no!” Victoria struggled, but their grips on her arms were like iron. “I didn’t do anything to you!”

“Neither did your sister,” de la Cruz said with an easy smile, and Victoria’s heart stopped in her chest.

“What?” she breathed, momentarily pausing in her attempt to get away. “But-” De la Cruz’s smile widened. “Where is she?” Victoria screamed. “What did you do to her?” De la Cruz’s only answer was to laugh as the guards forced Victoria out of the room. They easily dragged her out of the back of de la Cruz’s mansion and over a short stretch of rocky terrain. “Let go!” Victoria demanded, desperate to get back to de la Cruz and find out where Elena was, what had happened to her. “Let go!” To her shock, they did, and for a moment she wondered if they had taken pity on her.

Until they pushed her into a sinkhole.

She couldn’t see how far the drop was, and she braced herself to hit the rocky ground, but gasped when she hit cold water. In doing so, she inhaled some, and immediately started coughing when her head broke the surface. By some miracle, she hadn’t lost her glasses, and she held them on her face with one hand as she paddled toward a small island in the middle of the sinkhole with the other. She pulled herself onto dry land, panting and sputtering and hardly paying attention to her surroundings until she heard a small noise. She was instantly startled back into awareness, then pushed herself to her feet and crept toward the shadow the noise had come from.

Trying not to imagine what sort of creatures de la Cruz might keep in a gaping death pit outside his house, Victoria hesitantly called a soft “Hello?” into the shadow. She heard a gasp.

“Victoria?” A figure stumbled out of the darkness, sopping wet and clutching something small and furry to her chest. Every one of Victoria’s now-invisible muscles froze.

“Elena?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The truth will set you free. Into an ancient death pit. Thanks for reading, please leave a comment :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to try to write a few more chapters before posting this one, but I've been stuck on the next one for about three weeks now and I really wanted to post this chapter.

Victoria and Elena stared at each other for the longest split-second of Victoria’s life. Elena looked scared, like she was waiting to be reprimanded, but she squeaked in surprise when Victoria all but leaped on her. Elena dropped Pepita in her shock as Victoria pulled her into a tight hug and squeezed her with every ounce of strength in her body.

“I’ve been looking for you all night, I was so worried did he hurt you? How did you get in here?” She was just babbling, hardly aware of what she was saying, but Elena leaned back to look her in the face, frowning.

“You came looking for me?” she asked, and Victoria paused in her anxious examination of Elena’s face.

“Did you think I wouldn't?” she asked, puzzled. Elena stared up at her, then slowly wrapped her arms around Victoria’s waist and leaned against her. Victoria tightened her arms around her and rested her cheek on the top of Elena's head, finally secure in the knowledge that whatever happened, Elena would not be alone. Elena shuddered, and Victoria looked down at her in concern as she started crying.

“I’m sorry,” Elena said quietly. “I’m sorry I ran away to the theater and I'm sorry de la Cruz threw me in here and-”

“Sh, it’s okay,” Victoria said, stroking Elena's hair like Hector had when she’d been upset. “We’ll be okay.” Elena kept shaking, her tears soaking into Victoria’s dress. “Hey, look at me.” Elena obeyed. “What would-what would Abuelita do?” 

Elena sniffled and wiped her eyes before saying, “She would hit something with her shoe.” Victoria blinked, then stifled a laugh, but Elena caught it. A small smile grew on her face as she looked up at Victoria.

“That sounds like my Imelda.” Victoria immediately pushed Elena behind her before she saw Hector stumble out of the shadows, wincing and clutching his skull. “Oof, how long was I out?”

“Hector?” He looked up, squinting.

“Victoria?” Victoria sprang forward and threw herself into his arms. 

“Hector!” Hector hugged her back as best he could, though he was still obviously disoriented. Elena shuffled her feet behind them. “Elena, this is Hector,” Victoria said, turning and taking a step back towards her. “He helped me find you.” Hector was glancing back and forth at them, looking confused.

“This is your sister?” he asked, and Victoria nodded. “Then Ernesto knew where she was, and he-” Hector snarled. “That twisted, dirty little-” He stopped abruptly, looking first at Victoria and then Elena. “-man,” he finished, and cleared his throat, looking sheepish. He smiled at Elena, who watched him with distrust. “Hola,” he said.

“Hola.” Victoria watched as Hector slowly approached Elena, holding a hand out for her to shake. Then she frowned.

“Who’s Imelda?” Victoria asked as Elena cautiously took Hector’s hand.

“Hmm? Oh,” he said, smiling sadly. “My wife, in the Land of the Living.”

“She’s why you want to cross the bridge.” It was a coincidence. A coincidence that Hector had played with de la Cruz and never gone home, a coincidence that his wife’s name was her abuelita’s name, too. 

“Si, and our daughter Coco.” What were the odds of meeting him here, just happening across him? They had to have been astronomical, and yet-

“Mama’s name is Coco,” Elena said, looking up at him curiously. He smiled down at her, looking more pleased with the fact that she had spoken to him than with what she had actually said.

“That's a pretty name,” he said.

“Imelda is Abuelita’s name,” Victoria said, and Hector frowned. He glanced between them, then looked at the wall, seemingly deep in thought.

“Where are you girls from?” he asked suddenly, looking at Victoria.

“Santa Cecilia.” His eyes widened. “You’re our abuelo?”

“I’m an abuelo?” he said, awestruck. He looked down at Elena, then back at Victoria, a wide grin spreading over his face. “I’m an-” He was cut off by a small shoe hitting his face, and he grabbed his skull to keep it attached to his body as Elena pulled her other sandal off her foot.

“You left!” she screeched and lobbed the other shoe at him. “You left and you never came back!”

“Elena!” Victoria jumped between Elena and Hector, putting her hands on Elena’s shoulders to keep her back. “Hector tried to come home to Mama, but de la Cruz murdered him!” Elena froze, her rage replaced by confusion.

“Murdered?” she asked in a small voice. Victoria nodded.

“Si. But he tried to come home a long time ago.”

“I’ve been trying since then,” Hector added. “But I could never make it.”

“Never,” Elena repeated. She looked up at the opening of the sinkhole, where the moon was shining brightly down on them. “Never ever.” For some reason, Victoria suddenly felt tears welling in her eyes, and she saw the Elena was in the same boat. It was finished, they were stuck. Like Hector, they were never going home. Hector winced.

“I’m sorry, nietas, sh, it’s okay.” He held out his arms, and Victoria went to him without hesitating. He held out his other arm for Elena, and though she still looked unsure, her need for comfort overpowered any other instinct. Hector held both of them close as they started to cry, and slowly helped them sit down without letting go. “Sh,” he said into Victoria’s hair as he rocked them back and forth, rubbing soothing circles on Elena’s back.

The bizarreness of the situation struck Victoria, and she would have been amazed if she hadn’t been so scared. The fact that she was crying in a sinkhole with her sister, her abuelita’s cat and her abuelo, a man she’d been raised to curse and despise, after she’d gotten stuck in the Land of the Dead should have left her reeling. But she only curled closer to Hector, her shaky breathing calming as he started to hum. She saw Elena stiffen in response, but Victoria wrapped her arms around Hector’s middle and looked up at him.

“Abuelito, can you sing?” Elena’s mouth dropped open, but Victoria just watched Hector’s eyes widen and an astonished smile spread across his face.

“Si, Victoria.” Victoria nestled her head against his shoulder. “I wrote a song for your mama once, would you like to hear that?” Elena opened her mouth but Victoria nodded before she could say anything. Elena closed her mouth, perplexed and suspicious as Hector started to sing.

_ Remember me _

_ Though I have to say goodbye _

_ Remember me _

_ Don't let it make you cry _

Elena started relaxing against Hector as he continued and shifted closer to him on the rocky ground. A flicker of movement caught Victoria’s eye; Pepita had jumped onto a rock not far from them and was watching with narrowed eyes.

_ For even if I’m far away _

_ I hold you in my heart _

_ I sing a secret song to you _

_ Each night we are apart _

Victoria recognized this song, it was one of de la Cruz’s most famous, everyone at the music contest had performed it. But Victoria liked this version better, it was softer and nicer to hear.

_ Remember me _

_ Though I have to travel far _

_ Remember me _

_ Each time you hear a sad guitar _

_ Know that I’m with you the only way that I can be _

_ Until your in my arms again _

_ Remember me _

Elena sniffed and snuggled closer to Hector, and his arms tightened around both of them. They sat in silence for a moment. Victoria told herself it wouldn't be so bad to be stuck here. She would have Elena and Hector, her family, everything would be-

Victoria blinked. “You're family,” she said, tilting her head to look up at Hector. His eyes were sad, but he smiled down at her.

“Si, Victoria,” he said, sweeping a lock of hair off of her face. Victoria could suddenly feel her heart pounding in her chest, forcefully reminding her that she was still alive.

“You're family!” she said again, leaping to her feet. “You can send us home!”

“What?” Hector said, looking up at her from the ground.

“We just need a petal, then you can give us your blessing!” Victoria looked up at the opening, frowning in her determination. “We need to get out of here.”

“How?” Elena asked, still curled against Hector’s side. Victoria looked at her and bit her lip. ‘How’ was exactly the question she didn’t have an answer for. She was about to open her mouth to say so when a sudden movement caught her eye.

Pepita was still sitting on her rock, but now her eyes were wide and fixed in one direction. She was lashing her tail from side to side and her fur was all sticking out, she seemed rooted to the spot. Suddenly she began to shake and something started crawling up her legs, it took Victoria a moment to realize that her fur was changing color from its ordinary gray and brown to a mosaic of bright, glowing colors. Pepita shuddered and began to grow; she was bigger than Elena, bigger than Victoria, bigger than Hector, twice, four times, ten times his size. Pepita yowled and writhed as her back feet grew into talons and her tail changed shape and grew scales. But the last and most shocking transformation was the pair of wings that burst from the fur on her back.

Victoria stared as Pepita shook all the tension out of her body, then roared into the sky. Victoria turned to Hector and Elena, whose eyes were wide and shocked, and grinned.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it!


	12. Chapter 12

It was the single most exhilarating thing she’d ever experienced. Clinging to Pepita’s back, the wind blowing in her hair, Victoria soared over the city. She was at the front, nearest to Pepita’s huge, curled horns, and Hector was at the back. Elena was sandwiched between them, clutching Victoria and burying her head in her dress.

Victoria didn’t know where they were going and didn’t know where she wanted to go. She only needed two petals from anywhere in the city, but had a nagging feeling that there was something she needed to do.

“Pepita!” she shouted over the wind, and Pepita flicked her ears. “Take us to Josefina!” Pepita roared and Elena’s grip tightened as she swooped into a sudden turn. She rounded a few skyscrapers before starting her descent. They were heading toward a small plaza, empty except for an agent in a uniform and one woman in a dress. The agent saw them first and pulled Josefina out of the way, and after a bit of tumbling Pepita landed on her feet.

“Victoria!” Josefina cried as Victoria slid off of Pepita’s back. “Elena! But-what-?”

“This is Pepita,” Victoria said, holding out a hand to help Elena down. But there was no need, Hector lifted her down easily.

“Pepita-your abuelita’s cat?” Josefina asked in disbelief. “And who are you?” she asked Hector, who had an arm around Elena’s shoulders.

“I’m Hector,” he said.

“He’s our abuelito,” Victoria said, and Hector beamed.

“So he can send you home!” Josefina plunged a hand into her pocket and drew out two marigold petals. “Here-” She stuffed them into Hector’s free hand.

“I-what-?”

“You look at the living, and say their names,” Josefina plowed on, wringing her hands. Hector hesitated, glancing at Victoria, who shrugged and nodded. Hector cleared his throat.

“Victoria and Elena,” he said clearly.

“Now say, ‘I give you my blessing.’”

“I give you my blessing,” Hector said obediently, and the petals lit up. Elena’s eyes widened, Victoria could see the petals shining in them.

“Then you girls take the petals,” Josefina directed, “and that will send you home.” Victoria looked at the petals, then up at Hector.

A look of dawning comprehension came over his face, replacing his bemusement with sadness. Elena stepped out from under his arm and stood next to Victoria, and Hector smiled down at both of them. He held out the petals.

Victoria wanted to take one, she wanted to grab Elena’s hand and close her eyes, and open them back home and completely alive. She looked up at Hector.

He could never go home. If they took the petals, he would have no hope of ever seeing Mama or Abuelita until they joined him.

“Go home,” he said gently, and Victoria’s eyes snapped down to the petals. It would be easy. She and Elena would be safe. She stretched out her hand and Elena did the same beside her.

And Hector would be alone.

Victoria clenched her hand into a fist and crossed her arms. “No,” she said. Elena froze and Hector blinked and stared down at her. “Not without your photo.”

“Victoria-”

“What?” Josefina said, and Victoria turned to her.

“De la Cruz took Hector’s photo,” she said. “We need to get it, so he can come home.”

“De la Cruz? Ernesto de la Cruz? What has he got to do with anything?”

“Victoria.” Victoria looked back at Hector. He looked touched, but desperate too. He wanted her to go home, to be safe. Victoria’s face hardened.

“I refuse your blessing,” she said with her best Abuelita-stare. Hector blinked and Josefina’s jaw dropped. One of the petals went out.

“Victoria?” Elena said in a small voice, tugging on her dress.

“The only way to cross the bridge is if someone puts your photo up,” Victoria explained. “De la Cruz took Hector’s photo. So we have to get it.” Elena searched Victoria’s face. Her eyebrows drew together and her mouth flattened into a determined line.

“Then I refuse your blessing, too,” she said, crossing her arms, and the other petal went out. Josefina looked like she was about to faint.

“Nietas, por favor,” Hector said, dropping to one knee in front of them. “Gracias, but getting you home is more important. I can’t let you stay here.”

“Well you can’t make us leave,” Elena said, and Victoria smirked. Hector glanced down at the petals, then at Josefina and the agent.

“So, what you’re saying is, if you get the photo back, you’ll go home?” Josefina asked warily. Victoria nodded. Josefina looked at Hector, who shrugged helplessly. She groaned.

“Ay, niñas. You’re going to be the final death of me.” Josefina took a deep breath. “How do we get to de la Cruz?” 

“I know how to get into the stadium,” Elena said, and they all turned to look at her. She shrank into Victoria and explained, “I was there earlier, before he made his security guards throw me into the hole.” Josefina blinked and stared, creases appearing in her forehead. “What?” Josefina’s mouth clicked shut and she shook her head without answering.

“Let’s go then,” said Victoria.

Josefina liked riding Pepita about as much as Elena did, Hector had to ask her to loosen her grip at least eight times. 

They had to leave the agent behind, with the other four he couldn’t fit on Pepita’s back. Josefina had sent him back to headquarters to fetch more agents, and after a nervous glance at Pepita he had agreed a little too quickly.

Elena had latched onto Victoria again, pressing herself so close Victoria could feel her heartbeat. She felt a lurch of guilt and dread. What if they couldn’t find the photo, and she’d doomed Elena to be stuck here forever? That wouldn’t happen, she told herself firmly. She wouldn’t let it. No matter what happened, she would make sure Elena was sent home.

They landed outside an auditorium that was roaring with tens of thousands of excited voices, and after sliding off of Pepita’s back with Hector’s assistance Elena led them to an unguarded door. Pepita bounded after them.

“In here, vamos,” Elena said, and Hector helped her heave the door open. Josefina followed them in, crossing herself with one shuddering hand and taking deep, calming breaths. Her other hand was clutched over her chest where her heart used to be, she seemed very relieved to be back on the ground. Victoria stepped through the door, which Hector was holding open for her, but caught herself and turned back.

“Pepita-” she started, not sure how to tell the giant cat to stay outside. Pepita shuddered again like she had in the cave. Her wide wings stiffened and contracted against her torso, the feathers melting into fur as Pepita shrank rapidly back to her original size. Her bright colors bled off, first from her nose and back off her face and ears, until with a flick the last bit of blue disappeared from the tip of her tail.

She darted inside after the others, brushing past Victoria before disappearing into the darkness. Victoria blinked and glanced up at Hector. He shrugged, and Victoria took a breath.

“You don’t have to do this, Victoria,” Hector said, touching her shoulder and stopping her before she stepped through the door.

“Yes I do,” she answered without hesitation. She knew it was the truth, even if it scared her.

“My photo-it isn’t so important-”

“Nothing is more important than family,” Victoria said firmly, the words filling her with a renewed sense of purpose. 

“Are you coming?” Elena had stopped somewhere past the door out of sight. Hector sent Victoria a pleading look.

“Si,” Victoria said, stepping through the door. “Come on, Abuelito.” Victoria grabbed his hand and pulled him in, and the door swung shut behind him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been a long time coming, thanks to everyone who waited!


	13. Chapter 13

Elena led them on a wandering path toward the heart of the stadium. Thousands of skeleton feet thudded over them, shaking dust from the ceiling of the twisting hallway. After what seemed like hours they came to a staircase.

“It’s up here and down the hallway a little more,” Elena said, pointing up the stairs. Victoria nodded and followed Elena up the steps. They stopped outside a door.

Thousands of jabbering voices had been getting louder and clearer as they’d approached. Hector pushed the door open a sliver and the voices exploded over them, the door led directly to the extreme front of the stadium. Victoria poked her head out under Hector’s arm.

“Elena!” she hissed. “We need to get backstage, not to the audience.” Elena shifted uncomfortably.

“I don’t know how to get backstage, just to here,” she said. Victoria pulled back and Hector shut the door.

“How are we supposed to-” A hush came over the audience, and Victoria paused. A steady beat started on a drum, slowly expanding to the rest of the orchestra. It was the music from Frida’s rehearsal earlier, the first part of her piece. Next would be chaos, and then- Victoria shuddered, then blinked, struck with inspiration.

“Follow me,” she said, nearly having to shout as she opened the door. Elena obeyed immediately, and the adults followed a beat later after a moment of hesitation. 

The door exited outside the orchestra pit, in front of everyone in the audience, but no one noticed as they ran to the side of the stage.

Frida’s dancers were there, acting out their patterns. Victoria watched with bated breath, counting down to the exact second.

The music changed, and the dancers with it. They were all falling over each other, slightly out of sync as the audience  _ oohed  _ and  _ ahhed.  _ Victoria grabbed Elena’s hand and tugged. Elena had to shake Hector’s arm to get him to stop staring at the dancers, now a writhing pile, and he had to squeeze Josefina’s shoulder before she looked away.

Victoria darted up the steps and straight into the confusion, praying that no one would notice as they fought their way across the stage, or that everyone would think it was part of the act. She kept a tight hold on Elena’s hand until they reached the wings.

“That’s art?” Hector said, panting. “What is even supposed to be-” He looked back as the music changed again. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped before he glanced around and clapped a hand over Elena’s eyes. “Let’s eh...let’s keep going,” he said, his voice an octave higher than usual.

“But what-?”

“And we’re moving!” Hector said, turning Elena away from the stage and pushing her backstage, dragging Victoria along too. There were some stagehands bustling around, but Victoria followed Hector as he crept around a corner, and none of them were spotted.

“All right,” Josefina said from behind as they hurried down another hallway away from the stagehands. “Now all we have to do is find de la Cruz.”

“Yes?” Victoria skidded to a halt, snapping her arm out and slamming Elena back into a shadow. Hector stood in stunned silence, staring into the face of his murderer and former best friend. “Hector?” de la Cruz said, leaping back. “How did you-?” He was cut off by a small shoe violently colliding with his skull, causing it to spin in circles on his vertebrae. Elena had wriggled under Victoria’s arm and was scowling up at de la Cruz in pure hatred, pulling off her other shoe.

“You murdered my abuelito!” she screeched, and lobbed her other shoe at him, once again managing to strike his face. “You made my mama sad!” Hector grabbed Elena and pushed her behind him as Victoria and Josefina ran out to join them.

“What is the meaning of this?” de la Cruz demanded, trying to sound intimidating and failing miserably.

“The photo!” Victoria shouted, pointing. It was still in his coat pocket. De la Cruz glanced down at it before he looked back up, first at Elena and Victoria, then Josefina, before his eyes landed on Hector. Hector’s features darkened and he stretched up to his full height, towering over de la Cruz. For the first time since Victoria had met him, he looked dangerous. De la Cruz gulped.

And bolted.

Hector charged after him, Elena and Victoria on his heels and Josefina behind them. They chased de la Cruz down dark corridors and up stairwells, through dressing rooms filled with shrieking skeleton ladies and past a group of bulky men.

“Security! Ayudame!” he panted as he sprinted by them. They blinked at him in confusion as he disappeared around a corner, and shoved each other into action when Victoria and the others bolted after him.

The guards took a different turn and cut them off backstage. Victoria skidded to a halt and dove away as a guard lunged for her, while three others went after Hector and the other two cornered Elena and Josefina. Hector scratched at de la Cruz’s coat as the guards pounced on him, and managed to pull the photo out of his pocket. De la Cruz swatted it out of Hector’s hand, scrambling after it when it slipped out of his fingers.

Victoria wriggled out of the guard’s hands and darted forward. “Abuelito, I have it!” she cried as she snatched it out of the air. De la Cruz charged at her, his eyes wide and murderous, but Josefina threw herself between a guard’s legs and tackled de la Cruz before he could reach her.

Victoria stumbled back, clutching the photo to her chest.

“Victoria!” She instinctively moved to leap towards Elena’s terrified voice. But the ground jerked under her, and she lurched to a rail as a circular platform raised her to a trapdoor in the ceiling.

“Hector?” she said in a shaky voice, peering over the edge of the platform. He was still struggling to escape the three largest guards, and the other three had pulled Josefina off of de la Cruz and had trapped her and Elena in a corner. Hector was clawing and squirming, trying desperately to get to de la Cruz, who was watching Victoria’s ascent with narrowed eyes and gritted teeth. He glanced at Josefina and Elena, and then at Hector for a long moment, before he darted out a door labeled ‘Stage’.

Hector lunged after him but the guards held him fast. He slumped.

There was an ear-piercing yowl, and suddenly the room was filled with technicolor fur and sharp claws.

“Pepita!” Elena cried, slipping through the guards’ legs as they all stared up at Pepita in terror. Elena looked up at Victoria, and their eyes met for a split-second before bright light pierced Victoria’s eyes, blinding her.

The platform was lifting her to the stage, slowly revealing her to the auditorium and the tens of thousands of people in it. She held one bony hand over her face to block the light and regretted it instantly.

There were  _ so many people.  _ And all of them were staring at her, their whoops and cheers dying down as they realized that she wasn’t de la Cruz.

Thousands of people, thousands of faces, thousands of eyes-the air in Victoria’s chest became thick and heavy, she couldn’t  _ breathe- _

“Victoria!” She took a sharp, gasping breath. Elena and Hector were in the wings to her left, frantically waving at her to come down. She took a few steps, her knees almost buckling with relief when the spotlight didn’t follow her, but a noise behind her caught her attention.

De la Cruz was standing in the other wing, and more of his guards were creeping across the stage in the darkness. At the rate they were going, they would get to Hector and Elena before she could get down the stairs.

She needed to distract them, get them to stop long enough for her to get into the wings. One of the guards glanced at the audience as he crossed the stage, and grimaced before turning away and hiding his face. The other guards seemed similarly uneasy.

Bingo.

Victoria took a deep breath and sent Elena a weak smile. She turned around and stepped back into the spotlight, forcing her hands not to shake.

The microphone was a bit tall for her, she lifted it off its stand and held it in front of her face. The audience gasped and the guards froze. Victoria took a step, and this time, the spotlight followed her. She glanced at Elena; Hector had taken her by the shoulders and pulled her back towards him, taking a protective stance. Elena tilted her head, frowning.  _ What are you doing?  _ she seemed to be asking.

Victoria took a deep breath, blocking out the stares she could feel boring into her, and sang.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, please leave a comment :)


	14. Chapter 14

She only knew one song, but she had never actually sung it or anything else in her entire life. She didn’t even know how, what muscles to use in her throat to make different notes come out.

But to her amazement, the notes came easily, rising to the tip of her tongue almost without effort.

Forcing them out was the difficult part. The first word was the worst, the most strangled, pitiful “Ay” she had ever heard. A murmur ran through the audience, and de la Cruz smirked from the wings. The sight of that smirk filled Victoria with fury and strengthened her resolve. De la Cruz was not going to win, not when she and Elena were so close to getting home.

She continued with only a slight tremor, forcing herself to keep her voice level as she walked carefully down the stairs.

_ Ay, de mi Llorona _

_ Llorona de azul-celeste _

_ Ay, de mi Llorona _

_ Llorona de azul-celeste _

The guards glanced back at de la Cruz for instructions and he waved them forward, his face darkening as the audience settled. The guards crept forward again.

_ Y aunque la vida me cueste Llorona _

_ No dejare, de quererte _

Victoria was almost to the bottom of the staircase but the guards were too close, they were going to be ready at the bottom before she could make it.

Victoria screwed her eyes shut and jumped, and landed on her feet directly in front of the leading guard. The spotlight followed her, the guard blinked in the sudden brightness. Victoria grinned, and the orchestra pit exploded into action, accompanying her without a hitch.

_ No dejare de quererte _

Victoria ran across the stage, away from Hector and Elena. The guards tried to surround her as she kept singing, but she ducked between them and led them on a wild chase around the stage.

Victoria amazed herself: she was having fun. She wanted to feel guilty for enjoying singing so much, knowing how angry Abuelita would be, but she couldn’t force the smile off her face.

She wove and spun and ducked, still clutching the photo to her chest, twirling out of one guard’s arms to step on another’s foot.

One guard, the same one who had hidden his face earlier, managed to grab her as she made to break for the left wing. Victoria shoved the microphone into his hands and bolted, leaving the spotlight on him as he dropped the microphone and curled into a ball.

Victoria grinned and reached for Elena as she approached the end of the stage, certain that they were about to go home-

A skeletal hand wrapped around her wrist, jerking her back. Elena’s eyes widened in fear as de la Cruz pulled Victoria back towards center stage, trapping her in his own spotlight and an iron grip.

He spun her around and sang with her, smiling down at her proudly as he easily disguised her struggles to get away as dancing. The song was drawing to a close, the orchestra was building up to a massive finish. De la Cruz lifted Victoria over his head and spun her around like a proud papa, his painfully tight grip on her waist belying his false, adoring smile.

_ No dejare de quererte _

_ No dejare de quererte _

He continued to sing, slamming Victoria back onto her feet and twirling her into his chest.

_ No dejare de quererte _

Victoria stumbled as he twirled her again, and de la Cruz plucked the photo from her hand during her split-second distraction before she could regain her footing.

_ Ay ay ay ay! _

De la Cruz squished her to his side and held the photo far out of reach, belting the last line of the song so loudly Victoria shrank back. A flicker of movement caught Victoria’s eye as she fought to regain her bearings, blinking rapidly to steady her swirling vision.

Elena was fighting to run onstage, hitting and kicking at Hector, whose arms were wrapped tight around her. Her eyes were wide and furious, she was screeching something Victoria couldn’t hear over the orchestra. The corner of Victoria’s mouth twitched, a mischievous gleam flashed in her eyes.

De la Cruz’s white boots looked expensive, but not well made. Victoria knew a sturdy shoe when she saw one, these seemed to be more for show than functionality. Rivera boots, however, were built to last and to endure whatever the wearer encountered. And if it was the heel of the boot encountering the cheap leather of a dead celebrity’s shoe, a Rivera boot could handle it, or Imelda wasn’t Victoria’s middle name.

At that moment, de la Cruz’s high, pained squeal was the sweetest sound Victoria had ever heard, and the crunch of his toes under her heel as she plucked the photo from his hand the most wonderful sensation.

She left him hopping on one foot, clutching his other foot in both hands and hissing words that would make Tia Rosita faint. Hector only let go of Elena once Victoria was in the wings and out of sight of the crowd. The sisters slammed into each others’ embrace, and Hector lifted both of them into his arms, twirling them around as they shrieked their giddy laughter. He covered their faces with kisses, praising Victoria’s performance between each peck as if it had been the most spectacular song he had ever heard.

“Wonderful-stunning-perfecto-” until their giggling died down. Victoria looked around over Hector’s shoulders and frowned.

“Where’s Josefina?”

“She’s with Pepita,” Hector said, grunting as he knelt and lowered them down. “Now-” He pulled two petals out of his pocket. “Will you please accept my blessing?” Victoria and Elena glanced at each other, and at the photo in Victoria’s hand.

“Si,” Victoria said quietly, but before Hector could say the words she darted forward and threw her arms around his neck. Beside her, Elena did the same, and Hector squeezed both of them tight against his ribcage.

“I wish you could come with us,” Elena said, her voice wavering in a way that told Victoria she was crying, or would be soon.

“Hey,” Hector said soothingly, leaning back to look at them. “It’s okay. I’ll see you every Dia de Muertos.” Tears continued to roll down Elena’s cheeks, but she nodded bravely, straightening her spine. Hector smiled.

“Now, Victoria, Elena, I give you my blessing.” The petals sparked to life, casting a warm glow over Hector’s face. Only a few hours before, Victoria would have been frightened by the way the light made Hector’s eye sockets and nose look deeper and sharper by contrast, but now all she could see were the colorful markings etched on his skull, and the love in his eyes as he held out the petals to them.

“Te amo, nietas,” he said.

“Te amo, abuelito,” they said together. Elena glanced at Victoria, and Victoria nodded. They both reached for a petal, Victoria clasping Hector’s photo to her chest with her other hand.

The petals were emitting warmth, Victoria could feel it on her fingers-

A bony hand snatched the back of her collar, and felt of thrill of terror as she saw Elena being swept up as well. 

“You’re not going anywhere.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last! Almost done, thanks to everyone for reading :)


	15. Chapter 15

“Ernesto, stop!” Hector sprang forward, reaching for Ernesto’s neck vertebrae. Ernesto swung Elena into him, and Elena seized the opportunity to squirm out of his grasp. Unfortunately, her momentum launched her into Hector, who clattered into pieces.

Elena knocked her head on the ground with a thud, and was momentarily dazed. She clambered to her feet, clutching her spinning head and blinking her eyes back into focus.

“Victoria!” she gasped. De la Cruz didn’t seem to hear her, he was too busy trying to control her viciously struggling sister. Victoria kicked at his ribs and scratched at his eyes, but she only slowed him down as he stumbled out of the wing and into the night air, approaching a ledge at the top of the coliseum.

She should have felt panicked, her heart should have been pumping madly, her adrenaline should have spiked. And her head was panicking, but her heart… Elena pulled her dress forward to look down at her chest, and realized her heart was gone, it had disappeared with the rest of her organs. 

“Stay back!” Elena blinked and looked up to see Hector, reformed and cautiously closing in on Ernesto. “Stay back, Hector!”

Elena’s human instinct was to charge, but she forced herself to stay still. Charging recklessly into the city was what had gotten them into this mess. Think like Victoria, she thought. What would Victoria do?

Victoria would trust Hector to save her, she would know Elena couldn’t. She would also be thinking ahead, planning to make sure that de la Cruz could never hurt anyone again.

Elena glanced around, taking stock of her surroundings, and her eyes caught on a familiar mechanism. 

\---

“Let go of the girl, Ernesto,” Hector pleaded, arms stretched out entreatingly. 

“I’ve worked too hard, Hector,” Ernesto snarled, his eyes gleaming maniacally. “Too hard to let her ruin everything.”

“She’s a living child!”

“She’s a threat!” Victoria squirmed as Hector and Ernesto continued to argue, to no avail. Ernesto was still edging towards the ledge and his grip on her was rock solid. “You think I’d let her return to the Land of the Living with your photo? To keep your memory alive?” Hector’s eyes widened in horror.

“That was your plan? That’s why you haven’t spoken to me this whole time? You want me to be forgotten!” The way he said it, it sounded like being forgotten was a fate worse than death. His eyes clouded with rage, for a moment Victoria froze, petrified that Hector would choose that moment to charge. To do so would send all three of them straight off the edge.

“Victoria!” Hector blinked and glanced behind him. Josefina had appeared from downstairs, she was staring at Victoria and Ernesto in horror. Pepita, a normal tabby again, wove between Josefina’s ankles, hissing at de la Cruz.

“Stay back!” Ernesto warned. “Both of you stay back!” Over Hector’s shoulder, Victoria caught a flicker of movement. Elena was scurrying around a large contraption, spinning knobs and pushing buttons. She caught Victoria’s eye and mouthed  _ camera.  _ If she hadn’t been about to die, Victoria would have grinned. As it was, she opened her mouth and started to yell at her potential murderer.

“You’re a coward!” she cried.

“I am Ernesto de la Cruz, the greatest musician of all time!” he snapped, stepping closer to the ledge.

“Hector’s the real musician!” Victoria protested. Hector shook his head, motioning wildly for her to stop antagonizing Ernesto. “You’re just the man who murdered him to steal his songs!” Josefina gasped.

“Murdered-you didn’t tell me-murdered?” De la Cruz ignored her. His face had darkened, he had hardened himself to his murderous intent.

“I am the man willing to do whatever it takes to seize my moment,” he said coldly. His eyes narrowed to slits and he drew Victoria close to his face. “Whatever it takes.”

Hector lunged, reaching for Victoria, Pepita darted forward, and Josefina and Elena screamed.

Victoria fell into the open sky.

She heard Hector screaming after her, his voice growing fainter by the second, “Nooooo!” Wind whipped past her face and the city was a swirling blur around her. The ground seemed to be shooting up to meet her. Something was flapping in her hand; she clutched Hector’s photo to her chest and screwed her eyes shut, bracing herself for the inevitable impact.

_ Thump. _

She landed on a much softer surface than she expected, a surface which seemed to be carrying her back up. She opened her eyes a slit and was greeted with a giant, colorful fur coat.

“Pepita!”

The winged jaguar bore her back up to the ledge and she tumbled off, knees buckling. De la Cruz stared, jaw slack as Hector rushed forward to wrap Victoria in his arms.

“Mi nieta-mi Victoria-lo siento-” She wanted to collapse in his arms, but pulled herself to her feet. Pepita was stalking towards de la Cruz, who seemed frozen in place. He gulped.

“Nice kitty,” he said weakly, and Pepita roared. De la Cruz bolted, but Pepita caught him in a single bound. She tossed him into the sky, so high he went over all the curtains and equipment and landed smack-dab in the middle of the stage. Victoria heard the audience gasp.

“Victoria!” Victoria barely had time to open her arms before Elena nearly bowled her over, pulling her into the fiercest hug she’d ever experienced. “I thought-I thought-”

“It’s all right,” Victoria said faintly, trying not to imagine herself as a grease spot on the rock hard ground. “I think we should go home now.”

“Si, si-but wait just a minute-” Elena dashed away, unlatching something from the camera before calling Pepita to her.

“Wait, Elena, you can’t-!” In a panic, Josefina sprang forward and scrambled onto Pepita’s back. “You’re so close to going home!” Elena brushed off her concern, waving a roll of film over her head. 

“We’ll be right back!” Elena called, and she and Pepita launched into the sky, Josefina clinging on with a shriek.

“Wait-!” Victoria cried, but they were gone. “What’s she doing?” Hector had been gaping after them, but at Victoria’s question he snapped his mouth shut and shrugged.

“I don’t know-is she always running off like that?” Victoria nodded, grimacing as she thought back to the beginning of their adventure. “Hm. Maybe it comes from your papa’s side of the family.” He watched the sky for a moment, it looked like a thousand questions were running through his mind. But he blinked and shook himself, smiling reassuringly down at Victoria. “Pepita will bring them back,” he said, soothing Victoria’s nerves slightly. “Josefina will make sure of it. Victoria-” He knelt in front of her, placing one hand on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, I should have caught you. I never should have let you do this at all-oof.” Skeletons didn’t need air, maybe Hector’s surprised huff was instinctive. Victoria didn’t care, she squeezed him tighter, tucking her head against his neck in the last hug she would give him for a long time. Most of her skin and organs were gone, but she still had tear ducts, as evidenced by the burning behind her eyes.

“I wish you could come with us,” she said, repeating Elena’s earlier statement. Hector pulled back and examined her face, giving her an encouraging smile.

“Hey, I’ll see you next Dia de Muertos, eh? I promise.” Victoria just looked at him with sad eyes, and Hector cupped her cheek in his palm. “We’ll see each other again. Not for a long time, though, okay?” Victoria cracked a smile, and Hector grinned.

“Victoria, the sun!” Hector and Victoria blinked, startled by Josefina’s cry. “Elena-” Pepita landed with stunning grace, considering she had never flown before that night. “-get down, you have to go now!” Elena slid off Pepita’s back and scurried over to Hector, gripping him in a huge hug.

“Adios, Abuelito,” she said, and kissed him on the cheek. Hector looked stunned, but they had no more time for goodbyes. The sun was peeking over the horizon, the light shining through their disappearing skin, highlighting the bones in their faces. Hector held out the petals.

“Victoria, Elena, I give you my blessing.” The petals lit up, and glancing at Elena to make sure she was doing the same, Victoria reached out and finally took one, pressing the photo safely to her chest.

The last thing she saw was her abuelito’s face before everything vanished in a whirl of orange petals.

 


	16. Chapter 16

“Mama!” Coco almost wept with relief. Two pairs of small feet raced through the front gate, and she opened her arms as her daughters collided with her. Elena latched her arms around Coco’s neck and wouldn’t let go. 

“Nietas! You’re home, oh, we were so worried!” Mama Imelda had staggered through the gate, looking dead on her feet from another round of searching, but at the sight of her granddaughters a weight seemed to lift off her.

“Abuelita!” Victoria released Coco from a crushing hug and bolted across the courtyard, launching herself into Imelda’s arms. “We found Abuelito! He was in the Land of the Dead, he didn’t want to leave you.” Imelda froze, and Coco felt like her heart had stopped. She couldn’t believe her ears, the night without sleep must have been making her hear things. “And music is so fun! He sang a song and did a funny dance and played the guitar-I want to learn to play the guitar-and he gave us his photo so he can visit next year and every year after that!”

“Victoria-” Uncharacteristically, Victoria ignored her abuelita, or just didn’t hear her over her own chattering, either way she didn’t stop jabbering.

“He’s funny looking in the picture but I like it anyway-”

“Victoria! Elena!” Julio nearly fainted with shock as his demure Victoria barreled toward him and crashed into his stomach. Next to him, Rosita took a hurried step back as he almost stumbled into her.

“Papa! Tia Rosita! We just got back from the Land of the Dead, we saw Abuelito there!” Victoria began her hectic explanation again, not allowing anyone to interrupt as she plowed on, paying no mind to any questions. Elena stayed burrowed in Coco’s arms, and Coco felt her forehead for fever. Victoria’s eyes looked unusually bright, and both her girls were acting so odd that Coco briefly thought they had caught something during the night. It wasn’t like Elena to be quiet and clingy, or for Victoria to be a raucous bundle of energy. But no, Elena’s forehead was cool, and Victoria wasn’t flushed or sweating, just very excited.

“Tio Oscar, Tio Felipe!” Julio looked to Coco, desperate for answers as Victoria bounded toward Oscar and Felipe, who had just appeared in the gate, but Coco shrugged. “We saw Abuelito!”

“Victoria!” Imelda had been trying to get Victoria’s attention for several minutes, now, with no success, but at her outburst Victoria finally turned to her.

“Si, Abuelita?” There was Coco’s polite Victoria, albeit the disarmingly wide smile that she couldn’t seem to help. Imelda seemed flustered at Victoria’s bright, chirpy answer; none of them had heard her so cheerful before.

“What do you mean, you met your abuelito?” Victoria’s face fell slightly in confusion.

“I mean, we-oh, I need to start from the beginning. Elena and I stole Ernesto de la Cruz’s guitar from his grave, and then-”

“You did what?” Imelda shrieked, and Victoria smiled sheepishly.

“We stole his guitar. It was my idea, I apologize for that.” Coco blinked. The way Victoria tilted her head and curled her fingers, her apologetic grimace, it had sparked a feeling of deja vu. Imelda looked stricken. “But because we stole from the dead, it cursed us and made us invisible, so we had to go across the bridge with Josefina.” 

Victoria continued her story with mounting enthusiasm, unbothered by everyone’s disbelieving looks. It was a tale so fantastic, Coco would have thought it a joke from anyone else, but from Victoria it just perplexed her. What did she hope to gain from such a convoluted lie, and how did she even know her abuelito’s name, let alone anything else about him? Imelda had not allowed a word to be spoken about him in nearly thirty years, and Coco barely remembered him herself, Victoria should not have known any of what she was telling them.

But she kept talking, flitting between topics and points in her story so randomly it was difficult to keep up.

“He sang a song to us to make us feel better, it was better that de la Cruz’s version, and all the other people who were playing it at the contest. Did I tell you about the contest? Abuelito sang a song about how love can make you crazy and he spun around a lot and it was funny-”

“Enough!” Imelda had looked to be on the verge of tears, at Victoria’s last words she exploded. “Victoria, I don’t want to hear any more of this nonsense! I don’t know where you heard these things, but it’s the last we’re going to speak of it!” Victoria blinked, shrinking back into her quiet self. “Your abuelito left us! He decided he loved his musica more than he loved his family! He is dead to us!” In Coco’s arms, Elena flinched.

“But-”

“No, Victoria,” Imelda said firmly. “No more of this. Now, I want to know where you have really been tonight.” Victoria stared up at her, her eyes wide and round behind her glasses. Gone was her exuberance and energy, she stood like a statue as Imelda waited for an answer. “Well?”

Victoria was silent, her gaze left her abuelita’s face so she was staring straight ahead.

“I told you what happened,” she said quietly, and turned. “I’m going to my room.” Imelda blinked, stunned by Victoria’s direct disobedience. Victoria had a stubborn streak, but she had never disrespected her abuelita.

She kept her head down as she left the courtyard, clutching a piece of paper to her chest Coco hadn’t noticed until that moment. They all watched in silence, too stunned to move as Victoria disappeared into the house. 

“It did happen,” Elena said, her voice muffled in Coco’s chest. Imelda’s face softened, regret flashed in her eyes as she glanced up at Victoria’s window before turning to Elena. 

“Elena, you mustn’t tell such stories,” she said gently. “I just want to know what really happened.” Elena hesitated, her grip on Coco’s shirt tightened momentarily before she pushed herself away to run past Imelda and through the door, after Victoria. 

Imelda blinked, and the others looked to Coco for an explanation. She shrugged helplessly and turned to her mama. Imelda had always had an answer, as long as she could remember. Imelda glanced around and cleared her throat, looking self-conscious, before squaring her shoulders. She swept into the house, and after a moment, the others followed.

\---

Elena found Victoria sitting on her bed, staring down at the picture of Hector’s smiling face. It was yellowing at the edges, and looked old and fragile in general, but Victoria held it gently. She didn’t look up as Elena climbed onto her bed beside her, but she shifted the photo slightly, so Elena had a better view.

She hadn’t looked at it closely before, Hector really was funny-looking. But in a nice, goofy way. Even if she had never met him, she would have wished that smiling man were still alive to be her abuelito.

“I miss him.” Elena blinked and looked up at her sister. She had never seen Victoria look so sad, or so much of anything. Victoria didn’t laugh a lot, or cry, or even smile, but now Elena could feel her sorrow as she tenderly ran her fingers over Hector’s grin. Cautiously, Elena scooted closer to Victoria and very slowly, very gently, leaned against her.

“Me, too,” she said. “I want him to be here, so Abuelita would believe us.” Victoria made a small hmm sound. Seemingly without thinking about it, she rested her cheek on Elena’s head. Elena inhaled sharply, surprised by the physical contact. Victoria had hugged her willingly more in the last twelve hours than she ever had in her whole life, and a secret part of Elena was desperately hoping she wouldn’t stop now that they were home.

“We would have music if he were here,” Victoria said. There was no emotion in her voice, it was just a statement, but Elena’s eyes still widened. It was one thing to ask Hector to sing in the cenote, or for Victoria to sing because it was the only way to escape the guards, but it was quite another to even suggest that she wanted music in her life.

But it hadn’t been all bad, Elena thought in spite of herself. She had enjoyed watching Victoria on the stage and hearing her sing, and Hector’s song had calmed her in a way she had never experienced.

“I liked the song he sang,” she said simply. Victoria hmmed again, and this time Elena thought it was in agreement. “Victoria,” she said, shrinking back slightly, “could you sing Hector’s song?”

Victoria didn’t answer for a long moment, she only stared at Hector’s photo as Elena’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. Elena stiffened slightly when Victoria leaned away from her, but shock and hope bloomed in her chest as Victoria wrapped her arm around her shoulders and took a deep breath.

_ Remember me _

_ Though I have to say goodbye, _

_ Remember me _

_ Don’t let it make you cry... _

_ \-- _

“Mama, wait.” Coco grabbed Imelda’s wrist, tugging her back from Victoria’s open door. “Listen.”

Imelda paused before her eyes widened. “Impossible,” she whispered. “How can she know that song?”

... _ I sing a secret song to you each night we are apart… _

“Remember me,” Coco hummed softly, without thinking. “Though I have to travel far…” She stopped abruptly when her mama’s eyes flicked to her face.

“Didn’t de la Cruz sing that song?” Julio asked from behind her, keeping his voice low. “Maybe that’s where she heard it.” Coco shook her head.

“He didn’t sing it like that.” She looked into her mama’s eyes, and saw that she understood. “No one sang it like that, but one person.” Imelda nodded stiffly, cocking her head as she strained to listen. She opened her mouth, the name was strange on her tongue.

“Hector.” The air shivered, Oscar and Felipe glanced at each other while Coco stared at her mama, who hadn’t spoken that name in over thirty years. The only sound was Victoria’s sweet voice as she finished the song.

_ Until you’re in my arms again, _

_ Remember me... _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the epilogue left! Thanks for reading :)


	17. Epilogue

“And then what happened? Did Mama Imelda ever believe you?” Elena smiled down at her grandson’s eager face. Of all her grandchildren, Miguel was the most like Hector, down to the dimple in his cheek. He had inherited Hector’s talent as well; at eight years old he could already play guitar like the instrument was part of his body.

He knew this story by heart, they all did, but she could never tell it fast enough for his liking. She knew the end was his favorite part, but she savored drawing it out, remembering every moment with her abuelo. She knew her mama liked hearing it slowly, too, and she glanced to the corner to make sure she was listening. Coco was smiling at her great-grandchildren, her eyes were clear and bright.

Elena snorted dramatically. “Do you think your Tia Victoria cared about that?” she asked incredulously, drawing giggles from the children gathered in front of her. “She wasn’t going to let that silly music ban stop her from remembering Papa Hector. Do you know what she did the very next day?”

“She went to the plaza!”

“That’s right, Rosa! She went to the plaza and found her favorite instrument-the violin!” She knew the older ones especially liked this part, when Victoria had rebelled against Mama Imelda. They liked referring to it whenever they got caught doing something they shouldn’t. “She went to the plaza every day after that, and got one of the mariachis to teach her. And your clever Tia Victoria-she learned to play just like that!” She snapped her fingers, and the children’s eyes widened in awe.

“I don’t know if it was ‘just like that’-” Someone snapped, and Elena looked to the doorway. “But I appreciate the compliment.” Victoria’s dry tone belied her wide smile, and all the children sprang to their feet and dashed towards her, half of them squealing “Tia Victoria!” and the other half yelling “Abuelita!”

“Be gentle!” Elena barked, scowling as her sister was practically stampeded. “Abel, what did I say?” It took several minutes for the children to welcome Victoria properly, in the last four days they all seemed to have amassed a treasure trove of stories she needed to be told that moment. The youngest all wanted to be held and the oldest all wanted to show her their instruments or their school projects, but all their chatter was indistinguishable until a voice finally cut through the babble.

“All right, calm down! Shouldn’t you all be helping set up?” Diego gave them all a stern look, a supporting hand on the small of Victoria’s back.

“We are set up!” Josefina quipped. “Everything is ready.” Diego frowned at his granddaughter, sending Victoria an exasperated look as she snickered. Victoria schooled her expression, clearing her throat as Diego searched for a response.

“Have you set out your letters?” Victoria asked. A glance at the ofrenda told her they had not, and with several grumbles they confirmed it. “Well, go on, then.” They rushed past her, eager to be finished with their task. Victoria smiled after them before turning to her sister. “Hola, Lena.” Elena pulled her down into a hug, squeezing the breath out of her. 

“You can’t go away for so long, you see how the children miss you,” she said in a scolding tone. “Tell the doctor to work faster.” Victoria rolled her eyes as Elena released her. 

“I’ll pass that along,” she said. “‘Please, Doctor, speed up your experimental treatments, my grandchildren miss me.’” Elena huffed.

“Ay-hola, Diego.”

“Hola, Elena,” Diego said. “Victoria, would you like to sit down?” She  was exhausted, he could tell by the way she was leaning on him, but he knew she would never admit it.

“Fine,” she said, rolling her eyes again. “But only because I know how you worry.” Elena scooted a chair close to Coco, and Victoria lowered herself into it with her usual grace, waving off Diego and Elena’s offers of help. Elena muttered something about ‘too skinny’ and bustled out of the room.

“Hola, Mama,” Victoria said softly, taking Coco’s wrinkled hand in her own. She leaned over and kissed Coco on the cheek.

“Hola, mija,” Coco said, her voice gravelly with age. “How was your treatment?” Victoria patted her hand. 

“The same, Mama. The doctor said I’m getting better every visit, just like last time.” Coco beamed, and squeezed Victoria’s hand.

“My strong Viquita,” she said. Elena returned, bearing a plate laden with so much food Victoria would have thought Elena cooked her an entire meal every day for the last four days.

“Eat,” she demanded without preamble. “Diego, you’re too soft on her, hasn’t she been fed since you left?” Diego bristled, but Victoria raised her hands.

“Of course I’ve been fed, Elena,” she said. Elena snorted.

“Hospital food,” she said with a disparaging sniff, setting the plate in Victoria’s lap. “I remember last time you were sick, it wasn’t good enough to be called food.” Victoria smiled wryly as she picked up her fork, knowing it would be useless to protest.

“Believe it or not, Elena, hospital food has improved in the last forty years.” She took a bite before Elena could order her to, and raised her eyebrows. Elena huffed again.

“Tia Elena, where do you want the other table?” Victoria perked up, setting her plate to the side.

“Nevermind that, Hector, come say hello to your mama!” Elena ordered, having noticed Victoria’s reaction. She and Diego must have come directly to the ofrenda room, they would want to see their children. 

“What?” A tall, lanky man in his mid-forties ducked halfway into the room, his brown eyes lighting up when he saw Victoria sitting next to Coco. “Mama, Papa, you’re home!” In two long strides he crossed the room and leaned down to kiss his mother’s cheek. “How was treatment?”

“The same as last month,” Victoria said dismissively, as though her hospital visit were unimportant. “How has everything been here?” Hector grinned.

“Busy. Tia Elena has been driving everyone like horses to get ready for Dia de Muertos.” He glanced up and nodded at Diego. “Hola, Papa. How was the drive?”

“Long,” Diego groaned. Elena tsked, waving off his complaints as she firmly placed the plate back in Victoria’s lap.

“Eat, hermana,” she ordered. “Do you want Abuelita to see you so skinny? She’ll think I’m not feeding you!” Victoria sighed dramatically.

“Heaven forbid,” she deadpanned. She picked up her fork again. “Only for you, Elena,” she said with the air of a soldier going off to battle. Hector snickered, but abruptly fell silent under his Tia Elena’s fierce gaze.

“I’ll go tell everyone you’re home,” he said, and squeezed Victoria’s shoulder before fleeing the room. Victoria chuckled softly, unaffected by Elena’s glare as she calmly made her way through her heaping plate. After a moment, she cocked her head, pausing mid-bite.

“They’re coming,” she said conversationally, and Elena hurried to move away from the door before the grandchildren roared through it. Abel, with the longest legs, was quick to place his letters haphazardly on the ofrenda before the others could get to it. Then, with a great show of reluctance, he helped the others organize theirs, lifting the young ones to set their letters on the top. Victoria smiled; as usual, Miguel had a great stack of letters for his Papa Hector. All the others got a decent amount as well; Oscar, Felipe, Rosita, Julio, and Imelda received sizeable piles from their young relatives.

“Diego, could you go get my notebooks, please?” Leaving letters was not a ritual confined only to the children, for the last sixty years Victoria had filled notebooks with messages for every member of her family in the Land of the Dead. She had started it as the closest thing she could get to having Hector with them, for years she and Elena had written him letters about their lives, hoping it partially made up for him missing so much. The letters had weaned as she had grown up, but never stopped, and now, since her children had largely taken over the business, she had much more time to write.

Diego kissed her temple and left the room to carry out her request, edging around the grandchildren. Josefina and Sofia were badgering Abel to lift them up, saying they wanted to place Mama Imelda’s letters themselves, and Miguel and Rosa seemed to be finishing an argument, there were flower petals in their hair and they were sticking their tongues out at each other. Elena sighed in exasperation and approached the two of them, and Coco watched, looking amused.

“Abuelita?” Victoria looked down and found her youngest granddaughter in front of her. 

“Si, ‘meldita?” Imelda was three, and the quietest of all of them. She didn’t speak, just lifted her arms. Without hesitating, Victoria set aside her plate for the second time and lifted Imelda into her lap. Imelda snuggled against her, content to sit with her ear over Victoria’s heart. 

“Are you excited for tonight, mija?” Victoria asked, brushing Imelda’s bangs off her face. Imelda didn’t answer for a moment.

“Are they scary?” she eventually whispered, and Victoria frowned. “Abel said they’re like ghosts.” Victoria grimaced and sent a frustrated glance in Abel’s direction. He was standing with his arms straight out, Sofia was dangling on one arm and Josefina on the other. They were both laughing, and Abel was masterfully covering his strain with his own smile. He was a good boy, nearly sixteen, but he did love to torment his cousins sometimes.

“No, querida,” she said soothingly. “They’re not like ghosts, they’re real. But you won’t see them, you don’t have to be scared.” She gave Imelda a squeeze. “Aren’t you excited for dinner? Tia Elena has been working very hard on all your favorite foods.” Imelda cracked a small smile.

“Si,” she said. “Is it time to eat soon?” Victoria laughed.

“Si, Imelda, very soon.”

Dinner, as Elena’s dinners always were, was wonderful. Everyone was delighted to have Victoria back from the hospital, they ate and chattered and sang and celebrated until the sun went down, and well after that. Victoria and Elena shared a secret smile when orange, glowing light appeared at the edges of their vision, but said nothing else. 

A year after their adventure in the Land of the Dead, they had discovered that they could still see the ghosts of their ancestors whenever they returned. They would blur out of focus if Victoria or Elena looked at them directly, but they were always there, in the corner of their eyes. 

When the children started to droop, Victoria silently led the family to the ofrenda room. The  _ whole  _ family, she could see her abuelito and abuelita smiling proudly at her as she settled into a chair with Imelda drowsing in her arms. 

“Miguel, would you play for us?” Victoria said softly, and Miguel’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. He had never been allowed to play the last song of Dia de Muertos before.

“S-si, Tia Victoria,” he squeaked. His guitar was never far away, he scampered off to retrieve it. He made sure it was tuned as he returned, giving it a quick strum, and both Hectors-the dead one and the living one-gave him an encouraging smile. He shook out his nerves, the way Victoria had taught him, and opened his mouth to sing.

His voice was clear and strong, and his short fingers were sure on his guitar.

_ Remember me,  _ he began, and the rest of the family joined in,  _ though I have to say goodbye, remember me, don’t let it make you cry… _

Out of the corner of her eye, Victoria saw the spirit of her papa stroke her mama’s hand, cupping her face in his skeletal hand as happy tears streamed down her cheeks. On her other side, her abuelito and abuelita, long since reconciled, were holding each other and watching their family, happiness shining in their eyes.

_ Remember me, _

_ Though I have to travel far, _

_ Remember me, _

_ Each time you hear a sad guitar _

Victoria bowed her head to press a kiss to Imelda’s crown, whispering the last words into her hair. 

_ Until you’re in my arms again _

_ Remember me _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end.

**Author's Note:**

> Because I need to write more about Victoria.
> 
> What did you think? Please leave a comment and let me know!


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